The Obsession
by Desert.Moon
Summary: Takara grew up hearing tales of "the child-monster," who ate small, badly behaving children. The day she turned six, she discovered that the child-monster was actually a child: Gaara. Now, an unhealthy obsession has been born...
1. A Beginning

I was widely known throughout Suna as being insanely and unhealthily obsessed with the village's greatest—and most unstable—weapon.

And with good reason, too, because I _was_. Obsessed, I mean. In fact, I think the only one who didn't know was the weapon himself. Which was quite a feat, all things considered.

But it was also, in my mind, one hundred percent _good_, because I was pretty darn sure that guy didn't even know of my existence, and it would have been pretty weird—not to mention creepy—if he knew about my obsession. You know, not knowing I exist plus knowing I was obsessed equals... Well, you get the point.

It all started at the tender age of six.

Actually, it probably started a good deal sooner than that. From practically the minute I was born, my parents regaled me with tales of 'the child-monster', who would come and eat me—well, children in general, but specifically me—if I was a bad girl. I was terrified by these stories, as any sane child would be, but I was also thrilled. (I had a taste for adventure that couldn't touch me.)

It wasn't 'til I turned six that I discovered that the child-monster was actually a child.

So anyway, it all began at the tender age of six, when I met Sabaku no Gaara.

Well, it wasn't so much that I met him as I was a casual bystander on the night his uncle tried to kill him.

It was my sixth birthday, actually, and I had fled to the roof to escape the party my mother had insisted was to celebrate me. Since no one my age was ever invited—_that _party, with my friends, would come the next day—I knew they were just social gatherings for Mom's entertainment. (Except that I could barely _say_ 'social gatherings'. But I knew.)

Anyway, while I was daydreaming about the next day's _fun_ party, I was interrupted by a good deal of shouting. Actually, it wasn't really shouting so much as sniffling. I went to investigate just in time to witness several kunai flying toward a red-haired boy who appeared to be about my age.

Being practically a ninja academy dropout—even at six—there was nothing I could really do to help the boy. Plus, I didn't really understand what was going on. Heck, I'm pretty sure _Gaara_ didn't understand what was happening, either, and he was the one it was happening _to_.

It was when I saw the boy kill the man that I knew _this_ was the real child-monster.

Just because I was failing school doesn't mean I was stupid. I just didn't pay attention and didn't care. It wasn't where I wanted to be; it was where my _mother_ wanted me to be. Having a shinobi in the family raised her social status a touch. My father didn't care; he drank too much to care. Not that any of my mother's party guests knew that.

But anyway, I was smart enough to figure out that the child-monster was not limited to punishing children. Obviously, punishing bad adults was on his agenda, because I'd just seen him do it.

When I told my mother the next day that I'd met the child-monster, she nearly had a heart attack.

-o-

A/N: So, are you amused? Should I continue? Should I stop writing at all costs?

This totally popped out of nowhere. I was thinking about my fanfiction, _Sand Child_, when I came up with this. I had to write it down.

What do you think?

I'm not going to write anymore unless I get a review saying someone _wants_ more, since I wrote it spur-of-the-moment. However, I do have a few ideas (or I did—whether or not I still do remains to be seen) for continuing, so I'd be quite happy to if so desired.

I put this little note here at the end because if you get this far and don't want more, you don't care, but if you get this far and do want more, you're more likely to review. I'm sneaky like that (not really). But anyway, I figured if someone saw it before reading, they wouldn't read.

Gaara © Masashi Kishimoto-sama

(It needs a better title.)


	2. A Name

A/N: Thanks to zander herris, who submitted the review that got me started on this chapter. I'm actually quite enjoying this story, so… I'm probably going to keep writing it.

-o-

"You did _what_?"

"I met th' chil'-monster, Mommy," I said solemnly, staring innocently at her enraged—and possibly tired—face. "He doesn' jus' kill childs, ya know."

"You met Ga—the child-monster?" she repeated, one hand clenched tightly in her skirts as if she was restraining herself from tearing her hair out. Or possibly mine; she needed hers for her parties.

I nodded calmly.

"And you—he didn't—what happened?"

"He killed a man," I responded gravely.

I think she heard the awe in my voice, and it frustrated, worried, and terrified her all at once. "No! You're never to go near him again, do you hear me?"

"But Mama—"

"No!"

I hung my head and looked submissive; deception was the one thing (besides stealth) I chose to learn at the academy. "Yes, Mama."

-o-

The next night, we received word—during my birthday party, no less—that my father was dead. Killed the night before, in fact, by the child-monster himself.

I couldn't help but feel honored. Sure, I was a little sad—he was my _father_, and I was six—but I knew my father hadn't cared too much about me anyway. He was always drunk; I figured that was a bad thing, because the child-monster had punished him for it.

Right then and there, the day after my sixth birthday, I vowed never to touch alcohol in my life.

My mother cried a lot, but mostly, it was fake. She was incredibly relieved to be rid of my father; his drunken stupors left her reputation in danger. But still, she sobbed shamelessly in front of her guests, putting on a wonderfully believable front. Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, I'd sit on the cold stone stairs at night and watch her like a moviegoer at a show.

Once, though, I came upon her curled up in her bed, crying, and I thought maybe the tears were real. They didn't flow in excess, but her cascade of beautiful inky curls were mussed, her elaborate skirts were crumbled, and her eyes were reddened just slightly beneath her layers of smearing makeup.

"Mommy?" I asked hesitantly, and she shot up, bouncing the bed, and wiped her eyes, smearing the makeup further.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Are you—Mommy, are you o—"

"I'm fine," she responded shortly and flounced out of the room.

I never caught her crying again.

-o

"Look!" I said, pulling the short blanket around my shoulders and across my chest. I'd thought about borrowing one of my mother's elaborate shawls for this, but shinobi or no, her rage is great. Plus, it was too fancy for what I had in mind. Rubbing my short brown hair vigorously so that it stuck up in all directions, I declared, "I'm the child-monster!"

I was eight years old now, and only more attached to the monster of my childhood. My mother didn't know.

"Don't be ridiculous," Koma scoffed, kicking sand at me. "He's a _monster_—he doesn't look human."

"How would you know?" I retorted. "_You've_ never seen him."

"Why do you think he's called _monster_, you stupid girl?" His tone carried the derision that all of his kind had for girls when we were children.

"Because," I said confidentially, dropping my voice mysteriously so that they all stepped closer. "If he didn't look human, how would we hide among us?"

I was filled with satisfaction as their eyes all widened. Stumped by my logic, Koma stuck his tongue out at me and received sand in his mouth for it.

"The child-monster doesn't exist, anyway," Aru put in, shaking her golden hair importantly. "He's just a story told to make us be good."

"Not so," piped up a little black-haired boy. "He really lives here. His name is Ga—Gaara, I think."

"Don't be stupid, Tsuta," said Koma. "Whose lies have you been listening to?"

"No, Tsuta's truthful," I said, calling attention back to myself. "'Sides, I met him."

"Tsuta?" Aru asked. "'Course you did. We all did. He's standin' right here."

"No, not me," Tsuta retorted. "Gaara—the child-monster. That's what she's saying." When everyone looked at me in awe, I nodded in confirmation.

Only Koma looked disbelieving. "Maybe you should spend less time believing in stories and more time in class," he mocked. "Maybe then you'd be a better _ninja_."

The rest of the children left, but it didn't bother me too much. I'd learned his _name_. Somehow, that one bit of information had eluded me those two years, and now I knew it.

Now, he had a name.

-o-

A/N: Next time, it will probably skip about four years, to academy graduation day. No more children. :D

Oh, and I AM aware that apparently, one doesn't actually enter the Ninja Academy 'til age eight, but ignore it for the sake of the story, OK?


	3. A Chance

A/N: Thanks A ZILLION to Kankuro's Puppet! She was the only one to suggest a name for the OC. Not that I'm too fussed about that, since I fell in love with the name right away. . Seriously, I kept randomly saying it to myself afterward. :D So, KP-san, is this long enough?

-o-

"Akashi Takara, you fail"—_again_.

My head collided painfully with the stone desk in front of me. It was the sixth time I'd heard those four words in the same sentence, and I was getting tired of it.

The chūnin leading the class moved on, naming the other students who shared my fate. Although most of them hadn't shared it _quite_ as many times as I had. In fact, this was a first for all of them, and I probably would not see them again. Most of them gave up after the first try. Maybe I was just too darn stubborn.

It was ironic that I hadn't even wanted to be here, and now that I had my (sixth) chance to leave, I refused to go.

When the chūnin, Sakyo-sensei, had finished listing names, he dismissed the class. When Maraki Koma asked when we'd get our squads assigned, Sakyo-sensei assured him that would be taken care of tomorrow.

I remained with my head on the desk as the other twelve-year-olds filed out, laughing and chatting and cheering or sighing and crying and comforting. On his way past me, I heard Koma whisper, "Told ya you should've stopped chasing stories."

If I'd had the energy to kick him, I would have.

"Takara-chan."

I slowly raised my head to find Sakyo-sensei standing in front of me, frowning. Regretfully, I stood, sighing, and started edging toward the door.

"Takara-chan," he said again, running a hand through pale his. "This is your last chance."

"Huh?" I looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"You have one more chance to pass the test," he repeated. "If you don't succeed, you'll have to repeat the year. Or drop out."

He didn't say it, but he was surprised I hadn't chosen the latter option already.

"I really am going to assign teams tomorrow; I can't put it off. All the classes have taken the test now."

"Yes, Sensei," I responded regretfully.

"When you do want to take it?"

"Huh?" I said again. He looked exasperated.

"I presume you want your final chance?"

"Yeah."

"Later this afternoon or tomorrow morning?"

"Oh. Um…" I thought wildly for a moment. "Can I have an hour, then come back?"

"Take two. You'll need all the help you can get."

-o-

I don't think Sabaku no Gaara knew he had a schedule, but he did, and I knew it better than Gaara himself. I knew it wasn't something he did consciously, but Gaara always came to the rooftops in the afternoon or evening, and it was never the same roof two days in a row. It seems like that would make it harder to find him, but it was easy; the roofs of Suna are flat and easily occupied. I could stand on one and look like I was watering my cacti while surreptitiously searching the buildings all the way across the village.

I don't think I needed any disguise, though. He never saw me. He just wanted to be alone.

Even though I still identified him as the bogeyman of my childhood, I also saw him as so much more.

Sometimes, I waited for hours for Gaara to come, only to finally trudge inside and then see him through my window. He never came at the same time, though I could occasionally distinguish the hint of an unintentional pattern that allowed me to find him more easily the next week. Usually, though the pattern changed, eluding me, and I was left wondering if he'd appear. If I was out too long, my mother would question, though I could often excuse myself with the mention of training. Not so much, seeing how badly I was failing, but sometimes.

It was less suspicious than when I came inside and immediately went back out. I could lie with the best of them, but not all the time.

Right now, I knew I should be practicing for the fast-approaching examination, but it had been so easy—too easy—to find Gaara sitting on the roof of the Academy, staring at the sky. Now all I could think of was how I _had_ to pass the test so I could be a shinobi _with_ him.

It was my only hope.

I had little chance of being assigned to his squad. They might have been older than him, but Gaara's siblings still had the best chance of making up the rest of the red-haired shinobi's team.

I wasn't entirely sure whether or not I was glad of that. On the one hand, I would give my left arm—and I'm left-handed—to _meet _Gaara, face-to-face; but on the other, I quailed at the thought. He _was_ still the child-monster, even if he was older now.

In the shadows of the building next door to the Academy, I leaned against the rough stone wall and gazed up at Gaara's somber profile. Though the building was a decent distance from the Academy, it still offered only an awkward angle of vision, and I wanted to be closer.

Suddenly, though, Gaara's head turned slightly towards me, and I stilled, panicking internally. Another inch and he would almost definitely see me. My chakra signature was masked—that was something I did reflexively, _all the time_—but I didn't really have any cover besides a weak bit of shadow. Plus, I was wearing a good deal of white.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and slowly sank into a crouch, trying not to attract Gaara's attention. Bringing my hands together, I concentrated, and gradually, my chakra bled into the shadows. My long black pants blended in nicely and my loose white over-shirt darkened to grey.

I had, in essence, faded.

Of course, it wasn't as much as I would have liked. Ideally, the shadows and I would have been one. But this would have to do.

A minute later, Gaara stood slowly and trudged off across the roof. I watched him go, heart in my throat.

-o-

"Sensei?" I said tentatively, poking my head into the classroom. He had failed to say exactly _where_ this final chance would take place.

I was a few minutes early—okay, more like ten—but I couldn't wait any longer. The jittering nerves in my stomach would probably hop out my mouth if I tried.

The classroom remained silent and empty, but instead of leaving to find Sakyro-sensei, I stepped inside. I'd never been in the room when it was devoid of students, and there was something… eerie… about it.

I ran my fingers along the cool stone of the desks, feeling years of students carved into the surfaces. Mostly, there were just marks from pencils broken in stone, but here was a desk where a weapons master had carved his name with a kunai and here a fire-specialist had scorched the stone. Tracing the marks with my fingers, I was suddenly, _utterly_ certain that they were both dead.

Why did I want to be a shinobi again?

"Takara-chan?"

I jumped and looked up; Sakyo-sensei had just come in. Smiling somewhat sheepishly, I waved and wove through the desks toward him.

"I'm ready," I lied evenly.

"Are you sure?" he asked. I smiled thinly in return.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice."

"Shinobi don't," I contradicted, thinking of the weapons master and the pyro.

Sakyo-sensei was silently for a moment. "What makes you say that?"

"We have to follow orders unquestioningly," I said. "And we have to die for our village if it becomes necessary. No questions asked."

"We?"

"They," I corrected myself.

"Then why do you want to be a shinobi?"

I hesitated, unable to answer.

"…Can we just start?"


	4. A Test

A/N: I have no idea what tests Ninja Academy students have to take to become genin in Suna, so I made it up. Please don't hold me accountable if I'm wrong.

-o-

In Sunagakure, to become genin, Ninja Academy students had to take several tests. I'd already passed the survival test—even most _non_-shinobi in Suna could get through that one with ease; we're desert-dwellers, and know how to stay alive in our land—and the stealth and deception exams. I'd just barely inched by the written exam, also, but pass it I did.

It was the ninjustsu/taijutsu/genjutsu test I was having trouble with.

Generally, the exam was tailored to test students based more on their strengths. Unfortunately, my taijutsu was barely passable, my ninjutsu was destined to fail, and my genjutsu was little more than decent. So I got to take an all-around everything test.

"We'll start with taijutsu," said Sakyo-sensei quietly. "I don't expect you to beat me, because I'm a chūnin and you're not yet a genin." I took comfort from the way he said 'yet'. "But I do want you to hold your own."

I'd done this six times before and I still wasn't entirely sure what that entailed. Sakyo-sensei wouldn't say 'pass' or 'fail' until the end.

So that I meant I just had to do the best I could.

Sakyo-sensei moved slightly and was suddenly behind me. Startled, I ducked, but he had dropped into a sweeping kick. I grimaced as I hit the classroom floor and wondered why we hadn't gone outside.

I swung around onto my stomach, trying to sweep his legs in turn, but he was standing now and had a better range of motion. I grazed him, but he sidestepped and I leapt to my feet. He executed a roundhouse kick and I blocked it—barely—and punched toward his stomach. The chūnin caught my fist easily and, using him to balance, I kicked toward his head.

This turned out to be an over-ambitious target, as I was far too short to reach. He grabbed my leg and twisted, throwing me down. My hands met the floor and I spun, kicking his arm, but I couldn't keep my balance. Rolling, I came back to my feet, arms in an X-block across my chest, just in time to duck a palm strike to my face. I swung my arm outward in a knife-hand strike that had behind it all the force I could muster, but it only grazed Sakyo-sensei's stomach as he skipped backwards. I lunged forward in an awkward jab; he grabbed my outstretched arm, twisted it around behind my back, and forced me to the ground.

"Walk on the ceiling," he said, and released me.

Rising, I headed toward the wall, gathering chakra in my feet as I went. My only real comfort in this test was knowing that Sakyo-sensei was not looking for perfection in any of this. Genin would learn and improve with the help of their jōnin sensei when placed on a team. None of us were expected to be able to win a battle with a higher rank right now.

As I scurried up the wall and across the ceiling, I kept a bit of chakra ready in my hands as a precaution. Sakyo-sensei would catch me if I fell—probably—but I didn't want him to have to.

A moment later, the precaution turned out to be a good choice when Sensei told me to run. I lost concentration on the chakra in my feet but was able to reach up and catch myself as I fell. I hung from the ceiling for a moment, then dropped lightly to the floor in front of Sakyo-sensei.

"Clone," he said, arms crossed.

I tried to concentrate, but stumbled a bit over hand signs I couldn't remember. My clone turned out to be a hunchbacked version of me, with green eyes instead of blue, who could barely walk.

"Genjutsu. Bind me," ordered the chūnin, and I closed my eyes. I saw shadowy chains wrap themselves around my sensei, holding him fast, and made him see them, too. The genjutsu stayed in place for a moment, and then he broke it, hitting me with minor backlash; I was dizzy for a moment before the chūnin said, "Substitution" and flung a kunai at me. Caught off-guard, I just ducked, even though I knew he had it on a string that would stop it from hitting me if need be.

He left it where it fell and raised an eyebrow at me. Sighing, I hung my head, not surprised when he said quietly, "Fail."

I didn't look up as I heard him move toward me. "You performed better than you did in front of the class," the chūnin informed me. "Your taijutsu was passable, and your genjutsu held me, but I could tell it wasn't real." He didn't even mention my failed clone.

"In Konoha," I ventured, "I heard they only have to take a written exam and pass a transformation test to become genin."

"And would _you_ have passed a transformation test?"

"No," I admitted. "But—"

"Maybe," he interrupted abruptly, "that's why Konoha has more ninja. And maybe that's why more of them wind up dead."

There was silence for a moment, then Sakyo-sensei sighed, running a hand through his pale hair. "I'm sorry, Takara-chan, but if I sent you out to be a shinobi with only passable-at-best skills, you'd die. And as a teacher, I… I hate to see my students die. Especially when I could have prevented it."

"What about the weapons master and the fire specialist?" I hurled.

I expected it to sting, but I didn't expect his calm response.

"I said I didn't like to see my students die, Takara-chan. I didn't say I could prevent it every single time."

-o-

The next morning, I arrived at the Academy an hour early, knowing I'd find Sakyo-sensei there already. He was in the classroom, at his desk, when I walked int.

"Oh, Takara-chan," he said, looking up. "I—"

"Let me try again," I interrupted.

The chūnin sighed, once more running his hand through his hair. "Takara-chan, it's my understanding that you originally had absolutely no desire to become a shinobi. So why, now that you have a chance to leave, are you finally trying so hard?"

I froze, knowing I had to think fast. I needed a reason—a really good reason. I couldn't say 'Gaara.'

"I've found," I began haltingly, "that—what shinobi do—" I spoke with just enough hesitation to both plan my words and sound like a student making a reluctant confession; Sakyo-sensei had taught me well when he'd taught me to lie. "I guess—I just want to protect people. I want to stop people from dying, if I can," I added, remembering yesterday and knowing it would strike a nerve.

Sakyo-sensei eyed me closely. "I'm your teacher, Takara-chan," he said. "You can't lie to me."

I almost panicked, wondering if he had seen through my life. But then I realized what he was doing.

_I will not fall for that_, I thought fiercely, and responded, "I know, Sensei."

The chūnin sighed again and looked away. "I can't imagine you've gotten that much better in the last twelve hours, but you can have on more try, because you're here. But there won't be any more."

"Yes, Sensei," I agreed.

And then I blew it.

-o-

I was asleep on my desk as the other students filed in. Koma poked me as he walked past and I jumped. Instinctively, my arm swung out and collided with his side; he scowled at me and took his seat before I'd fully registered what happened.

There was one good thing about failing, I reflected. I wouldn't be on a team with Koma.

Sakyo-sensei entered and managed to quiet everyone down, then began assigning squads based on scores. As I'd suspected, Gaara was place don a team with Kankuro and Temari, though none of the three were around. They didn't need to be.

Most of the failed students hadn't bothered to come either, though it was supposed to be required. A few of the more disappointed ones were here, and a few of the more determined; some would train another year and try again, and some would leave.

I stayed, and I tried. I really _tried_. Three months later, I took the test with another class. And this time, I passed.

_Finally._


	5. A Request

A/N: KP-san, I know I told you Gaara was in this one more, but really, he's just talked about a lot; you don't actually _see_ him. Please forgive me… However, I promise to put him in the next chapter—this is, after all, a _Gaara fanfic. _:D

I just don't Takara doing anything that's going to get her killed. 'Cause then what would happen to the story?

-o-

Eavesdropping is a very bad habit.

Then again, so is lying. I did both on a regular basis without even a twinge of guilt. Besides, when you're practically stalking someone, it's hard not to hear what he's talking about.

Okay… not 'practically'. I had reached the point where I was forced to admit to myself that I was a stalker.

It gave me a sort of warm and fuzzy feeling inside. I'd been stalking somebody for about six years, and he still had no idea that I existed. That had to say _something_ about my skill.

I was currently hanging around and doing my best to hear all the details of the Sand Siblings' mission to Konoha. It sounded like a betrayal to me, but as I had no loyalty to Konoha, I wasn't too fussed. The Kazekage had obviously deemed it right.

Of course, I didn't put too much faith in the Kazekage anymore, not after learning what he'd done to Gaara. Mostly, it was the fact that _Gaara _didn't have a problem with it that gave me the same attitude.

Then again, Gaara didn't have a problem with much of anything if it involved him killing people. But that wasn't his fault.

My trouble now was figuring out how _I_ was going to get to Konoha. My squad was not advanced enough to attempt the Chūnin Exams this year, and we definitely would have no part in this mission. We wouldn't even be considered.

Unless I volunteered.

I would have to come up with a really good reason, though, or else we _still_ wouldn't be considered. We'd completed a grand total of two C-rank missions—not enough to really recommend us.

So… I would think about it.

-o-

"Okay, people," said Chie-sensei at the end of the day's training. "Any questions?"

I raised my hand as if we were back at the Academy. She nodded to me.

"What would it take to participate in this year's Chūnin Exams?" I asked promptly.

"Whaaaaaaat? Chūnin Exams?" Eiri repeated incredulously. "No way! We're not ready!"

Unnervingly, I was one a team with a weapons master and a fire specialist, which still sent shivers down my spine from time to time. It was the weapons master who had spoken, shocking us all.

"Cheh. Eiri, I'm surprised at you," Abura retorted, smiling slightly. "I'd have thought you'd jump at the chance."

"Whaaat?" he said again. "I'm not _stupid._"

Abura cocked an eyebrow at that, smirking.

"Alright, people," Chie-sensei broke in, lips twitching. "Takara-chan, how did you know the Chūnin Exams were coming up?"

"I listen," I responded promptly. Sensei was quickly learning to see through my lies—or trick me out of them—but since this was perfectly true, she had no reason to be suspicious.

"And why do you really want to go?"

This took a bit more deception on my part, but it wasn't too much of an issue.

I shrugged. "Even if I fail, it'd be nice to see how close I am in skill to the others."

The jōnin raised an eyebrow. "Now give me the real reason, not a concocted one."

"Whaaaaaat?" (That got really annoying, really fast, but I was getting used to it now.) "That's a good reason," Eiri protested.

"Yes," agreed Chie-sensei. "But not the real one."

"Sure it is," I said, just in case I was being tricked.

"I don't think so."

I smiled wryly. "How do you always know?"

"You sound more casual when you're lying," she smirked, and I could tell that wasn't her real method.

"Sensei, you're going to teach me to be an even better liar."

"It'll get you far in the shinobi world," she responded soberly. "But not here. Why Chūnin Exams?"

"Is Sabaku no Gaara participating in the Exams?" Abura interjected slyly. I narrowed my eyes at him while Chie-sensei confirmed it.

"That's why, then," he said, looking smug.

"Darn pyro," I muttered.

"Oh?" replied Chie-sensei. "Do you want to elaborate?" I presumed she was talking to Abura, not me; I doubted she wanted me to go on complaining about my teammate.

"No, he doesn't," I said through gritted teeth.

"Cheh, Sensei, don't you know?" he grinned, looking smug as the cat that swallowed the canary. "Everyone else does."

"Not _everyone_," I grated, while Eiri said cluelessly, "I do? What do I know?"

"Takara-chan," pronounced Abura, "is in love with the monster."

_That_ was _not_ what I was expecting.

For a moment, I was so disconcerted that I simply gaped at Abura. Finally, I spat, "He's—not—a monster," trying to give myself time to come up with a response. Still, all I managed to choke out was, "I am _not_ in love."

Abura snickered while Eiri just said "Whaaaaaat?" again.

"Actually, people," interrupted Chie-sensei, "she's telling the truth."

"Cheh, Sensei, did you see her face?"

"Yes, that's the point." The azure-haired jōnin smiled winningly. "Takara-chan lies smoothly."

I glared at them all. "I _am_ telling the truth." Really, the thought had never occurred to me; I just figured I was weird. With a mother whose stories had really made an impression upon her child.

"That's enough, people," Chie-sensei ordered finally, eliciting a sigh of relief from me. "Dismissed."

Abura wandered away, still snickering, with Eiri trailing behind. I lagged, and Chie-sensei waited patiently for me to speak.

"You didn't answer my original question," I mumbled, trying to compose myself.

"You didn't answer mine," the jōnin countered.

I gazed steadily into her cerulean eyes. "But Abura-kun did… after a fashion."

"You _are_ in love with Gaara?"

"No! But… Gaara _is_ the reason."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You know the mission to Konoha?"

"Now, how would a newly-made genin know about that?"

"I listen," I replied promptly. "Anyway, not so new—it's been three months."

"Newly-made," she repeated, lips twitching. "What about it?"

"…I want to help."

"Newly-made genin," she reiterated.

"Cannon fodder," I countered.

"No."

I had never heard Chie-sensei use such a cold tone of voice; the word was flat, and made it clear that this was the end of the discussion.

I reflected that I had possibly not chosen the best words. However, I refused to _let_ it be the end of the discussion.

"Mother told me stories of the child-monster," I said quietly. "I've heard them as long as I've been alive—I know it. But they weren't around when you were a child, were they?"

"Every parent has stories to tell their children, Takara-chan. Every parent has monsters."

"But not this monster."

"Not this monster," she agreed reluctantly.

"Because this monster is bas—"

"Not based," she interrupted sharply. "Reality."

"Yes." I smiled thinly. "You ever get the chance to know him, Sensei? Ever try to learn something about the so-called child-monster?"

"He kills, and he doesn't care why. He thirsts for blood, and he never wants to stop."

"He may not care why, but do you know?"

"Takar—"

"Sensei, you didn't take the time to learn, but I did. I know more about him. I'm still terrified of him, Sensei, because he's _still_ the monster of my childhood, but—

"Cheh," I spat, stealing the expression from Abura. "I'm not _in_ love with him, but I do love him. And I want to help. And hey, if I end up able to become a better shinobi while I'm at it, so much the better."

"…Newly-made," she said. But she didn't say no.

-o-

A/N: Ah, Takara, you're weird all right. :D (Yes, I do talk to my characters on a regular basis. XD)


	6. A Realization

A/N: Woohoo, really short chapter! Because I don't feel like writing more! Because Gaara's in the next one, and I didn't want to bring him in and cut him off! Or something! Why am I using all these exclamation points! GAH!

Thanks eternally to Kankuro's Puppet and Element Girls!!

-o-

"Guess what, people," declared Chie-sensei cheerfully. "I recommended you for the Chūnin Exams."

"Whaaaaaaat? Chūnin Exams?" repeated Eiri, giving me an odd case of déjà vu. "But we decided we weren't ready!"

"Cheh, Eiri-kun, only _you_ decided that," contradicted Abura. "Although," he added, "I tend to agree in this case."

I did, too, but I wasn't about to say that, seeing as I was the one who brought up the Exams in the first place.

"You're_not_ ready, people," responded Chie-sensei brightly. "But it will help you see where you need to improve. We leave for Konoha in a week."

"Yah!" Eiri cried, panicked. "A week! I gotta train! See ya!" With that, he dashed off, careening around corners at top speed.

Abura laughed. "For someone who doesn't think he's going to pass, he's sure going to try hard. But I might as well do the same." Smiling slightly, he head off.

Guessing that Chie-sensei wanted to talk to me, I stayed behind.

"The Council decided that a little extra distraction to draw attention away from the mission couldn't hurt." She grimaced as she spoke, and I knew she didn't think much of using children for—well, cannon fodder. Even if we were much older than the average twelve-year-old, we were still… children.

"So I got you in. But I had to tell them your reasons."

I smiled thinly and sighed inwardly. Practically all the genin knew already, and now all the jōnin would know, too: Everybody talked.

"They were quite surprised to hear about your…"

"Obsession?" I supplied before I realized what had slipped out. I clapped my hand over my mouth while Chie-sensei smiled in amusement.

"Obsession?" she repeated.

"Eheh," I said nervously. "Not really. It just—" She raised an eyebrow and I trailed off.

"Nevermind. May I go train as well?"

The jōnin nodded, but as I turned away, she called, "Takara-chan." I looked back.

"If you get yourself killed—especially by Gaara—know that I will wring that monster's neck. _Myself_."

"Good luck with that, Sensei." I smiled wanly. "He'll probably crush yours first."

-o-

"We," said Chie-sensei a week later, "are not traveling with Gaara's squad."

_Whaaaat?_ I wanted to cry, but I decided I would sound too much like Eiri, so I kept my mouth shut. It helped that Abura was looking sideways at me, waiting for a reaction; I remained calm and collected, even though I didn't want to.

"Well, yah, duh!" shouted Eiri, sounding relieved.

"Cheh, it's better that we don't travel with that monster, he might kill us as we sleep."

"We're his backup," I said hotly, burning with fury.

"Whaaaaaaat?"

"Takara-chan, what are you talking about?" asked Chie-sensei, raising an eyebrow. "Backup?"

I realized that Eiri and Abura probably had no idea we were distractions part of a bigger plan. I didn't really think that was fair to them, but I wasn't in charge.

I hung my head. "Sorry," I lied smoothly, sounding perfectly contrite. "I just… wanted them to lay off him."

"And what did you mean by 'backup'?" Chie-sensei pushed. I hesitated for a moment before realizing two things:

One, she was pushing my lie to the limits to see if I could support it. She was teaching me even now, when the lie _mattered_, and I couldn't let it break.

Two, we really weren't backup at all. We could never support—help—a team with someone as powerful as Gaara. What could we do?

We really were just cannon fodder.

"I meant nothing," I mumbled, seemingly in shame. "It was a lie. I tell them often enough."

Too late, I realized that a liar is never supposed to tell the truth when it counts.

-o-

We trailed behind the Sand Sibs, always at least half a mile back. Only Baki, the jōnin of the group, knew that we followed.

At night, I had last watch, so I could hide in the dawn and the rising sun while everyone else could cloak themselves in the true shadows of the night. It worked well, and no one snuck up on us.

It was only the third—and final—night when I snuck up on someone instead.

-o-

Glancing quickly about the camp, checking for signs of anything unusual, I crept through the shadows cast by the rising sun. _As_ usual, there was nothing. Nothing that might attack—or wake—my sleeping squad.

A half a mile, I reflected, wasn't too far for a ninja.

Forcing chakra into my feet, I leapt forward silently. No leaves crunched beneath my feet when I landed; no twigs snapped. I was almost invisible.

And suddenly, I knew that _this_ was what I was meant to do.

And this was what being a ninja was really about.

-o-

A/N: Anyone who can't figure out who she's sneaking up on needs to, to quote KP-san, go back to preschool. XD Please forgive the really short chapter, I promise the next one will be longer…


	7. A Voice

A/N: Yayz, finally, a chapter with Gaara in it! XD

-o-

Gaara never slept, so Gaara always watched; I knew that for a fact. I also knew that sometimes, when he was feeling particularly bloodthirsty, one of the others silently stayed awake with him, just to make sure that he didn't kill them in their sleep.

I had to pray that tonight wasn't one of those nights'. The moon wasn't full—and it was also setting—so I was hopeful.

Slowly, I crept forward to the edge of the Sand Sibs' camp. Gaara sat alone, away from the embers of the fire and the warmth of sleeping bodies.

I counted three lumpy bedrolls and considered myself safely alone with Gaara. (Well, maybe 'safe' wasn't the right word…)

I didn't approach, though. I just settled down across the camp and gazed thoughtfully at his back, wishing I could hear him speak.

It was about two minutes later that sand wrapped around me in a deadly blanket and began crushing the life from my body.

I almost couldn't bite down on the scream that tried to escape, and I emitted a muffled squeak. Fighting all the instincts that told me to struggle, I stilled.

A moment later, a voice snapped, "Gaara."

I opened one eye and saw that Baki stood, glaring firmly at Gaara. The red-haired shinobi narrowed his eyes and the sand kept constricting.

"She's an intruder," the boy said slowly, coldly. "Perhaps a spy."

"No, she's our genin cannon fodder," Baki snapped as if I weren't there. Irritated as I was at the remark, I had to admire his courage in contradicting Gaara. "The council sent Chie-san's team along as… distractions."

For a moment, the sand squeezed tighter; I felt a rib or three crack and cried out, and then it released me, slithering back to its master.

Tears of pain streaming silently down my face, I stumbled backwards, wrapping my arms around my abdomen and trying to blink back the water in my eyes. Gaara, who had no turned to look the whole time, finally shifted around.

And even though his cold, murderous eyes were pointed toward me, I had the feeling they passed right over me without seeing.

As I struggled away, no longer the silent, stealthy ninja but a broken and bleeding child, I heard Baki say, "If she's still alive when we've completed the mission, you can have your fun."

-o-

I don't know how I made it all the way back to camp, but I did, only to find a kunai at my throat. I stilled, eyes wide, and looked to see that the rest of my squad was in the same position. Since Chie-sensei could have been free in an instant, I figured she must be complying for a reason, so I didn't fight. Then, of course, I saw the symbols on their _hitai-ate_; they were Konoha nin.

When I coughed up blood onto the hand holding the kunai to my skin, the shinobi from Konoha lurched into action. There was a blur of motion; Chie-sensei was suddenly in the care of a different shinobi, and I was on the ground with someone's glowing hands on my stomach.

"What happened?" asked a female voice from above me. I tried to shift my eyes to see her face, but my vision was out of focus; I remained wide-eyed and silent.

I thought I could feel my team glaring at me, and I realized I had let them down. It had been my job to keep them from being snuck up on or attacked.

The pain from my ribs was lessening, fading, as healing chakra suffused my torso. I took as deep a breath as I could currently manage and whispered, "Sand."

Chie-sensei, at least, would know what I was talking about, and I didn't think the Konoha nin _needed _to know.

"Why, exactly," asked a man from the general direction of Eiri and Abura, "are four shinobi from Suna camping out in the middle of Konoha's forest?"

"Chūnin Exams," Chie-sensei replied promptly. "We have papers." Then she added, "And that's why we're not fighting back."

My vision was clearing; I saw the blade lowered from Abura's throat. I couldn't help but sigh in relief when they chose him; Abura was smart, and while Eiri wasn't exactly stupid, Abura would be more likely to comply without trouble.

"Get them," ordered the shinobi, and I presumed he meant the papers. Slowly, Abura retrieved them and hand them over. After a slight nod from the man who read them, the Konoha nin all relaxed.

"Welcome to Konoha, then," said one of the shinobi, "and good luck in the Exams."

As they backed into the trees, Chie-sensei caught the arm of the nin who had held her.

"I don't know what you people know of Sabaku no Gaara," she said, "but he's up ahead. Don't attack his group like you did ours—he _will_ kill you."

The shinobi nodded and disappeared.

-o-

"Alright," said Chie-sensei, turning her disapproving blue eyes on me. "Want to _elaborate_ on what happened?"

"Not really?" I tried hopefully.

"Let me rephrase that. Elaborate on what happened."

"I, uh—" My mind was racing, and I remembered that Chie-sensei had said I was calmer when I lied. I didn't _really_ think that was how she knew, but it might have entered into it.

So I wondered if I should lie like I was telling the truth.

"Well, I… I heard a sound," I said sheepishly. "It—it was probably just an animal, but I was worried, so I—I followed. I went farther than I'd thought, and I guess Gaara-san had wandered away from his camp. I… got in his way."

"She's lying," Eiri announced, probably just to look smart.

Abura replied, "Cheh, no she's not. Chie-sensei said she lies smoothly; listen to her stutter."

All three of us turned our eyes to the jōnin, but she just said, "What if those had been enemies?"

I hung my head and told the truth. "I don't know."

-o-

We arrived in Konoha only a _little_ later than planned and found ourselves with a good deal of free time. Eiri and abura went off to train; Chie-sensei pointed out that I should join them, because we would need to be able to work well as a team. Reluctantly, I agreed with her, but I didn't follow my teammates, deciding that I could train far better by actually _using_ my… talents.

I slid into the shadows of a building, masking my chakra as usual, and wondered how well I could mask my chakra in broad daylight. Just to see if I could completely vanish, I poured more and more chakra into the shadows around me as I inched along the wall. Fewer and fewer people were throwing glances my direction as they hurried down the streets of Konoha, and I was experiencing an odd sensation of… _falling._

A moment later, I blinked, and suddenly, I couldn't see.

More accurately, I _could_ see, but my vision was in pieces, life reflections off shards of glass, and a thousand different images twitched and shuddered before my eyes. I was seeing… _everything_.

My head whirled as if my brain was spinning in circles and I promptly passed out.

-o-

A/N: DUN DUN DUN… OK, not really, but that's alright.

So… I wondered if she's related to the Naras… -snickers- Um… yeah… she finally hears Gaara's voice for the first time!! I was proud of myself, because _I _could hear his voice in my head, saying those few things I had him say. XD Yayz… he didn't say much… there wasn't much to say… he wanted to kill her… OK… I need to stop rambling… I don't feel good…

Yeah… So, tell me, is my wonderful Takara-chan the Stalker a good, well-rounded character? Is she… -gasp- Mary Sue?? I need to know. –pleads-


	8. A Power

A/N: Sorry for the delay! First, I had writer's block. Then, I went to a four-day sf/fantasy con. Then I still had writer's block. Mostly because this is a boring chapter… although Gaara IS mentioned… -snickers-

-o-

"Oiiiiiii, Takara-chan, wake up!" Eiri cried, poking me forcefully. My arm tried to whip out and hit him, but it ended up just twitching feebly where it lay.

I moaned.

"She finally wakes up. Cheh, another day or two and you'd have missed the first part of the Exams."

I sat up quickly and my head threatened to fall off. "What? When do they start?"

"Part one's tomorrow. Enrollment's today."

"Gah!" I tried to stand and Chie-sensei pushed me back down.

"We can sign you up. What happened?" she asked firmly. "Your chakra was almost at absolute zero; you've been out for a long time."

"I learned something new," I mumbled. "I need to—work it out. Learn it. Control it."

The jonin looked interested. "Really? Please, elaborate."

Breathing somewhat erratically, I related what happened. "I think I can see… _through_ the shadows," I added. "But seeing through every connected shadow is… unhelpful."

"Decidedly," Chie-sensei agreed. "Especially if it drains all your chakra."

"Exactly," I said, once again attempting to rise. Encouragingly, my head promised to stay right where it belonged. "That's why I need to work on it."

Grimly, Chie-sensei nodded to Eiri-kun, who gleefully drew some ninja wire from a pouch and began binding my wrists to the railings on my bed.

"No reason you can't practice _right here_," the jonin informed me firmly. "We'll turn off some lights and give you some nice shadows, and I'll be outside the door."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Chie-sensei raised an eyebrow; I shut it and settled for glaring indignantly.

Smiling slightly, Chie-sensei ushered Eiri and Abura out with a firm word and flipped off an assortment of lights as she went.

-o-

I'm pretty sure I passed out a few more times while the hours dragged by. However, as I was still tied to the bed, it was really no issue, and I didn't notice.

At one point, Chie-sensei brought in a bowl of ramen for me; I ate it ravenously and begged for more. Lips twitching, she gestured at the open door; Eiri and Abura filed in with two more bowls, looking sour.

I decided that I could get used to this life.

Except that the person I really wanted to see obviously had no reason to visit at all. Restlessly, I shifted around in the bed, trying to get comfortable without moving my arms; they hadn't been unbound. Each time someone entered, I pleaded for release, but not a soul complied.

Eventually, Eiri pulled out the knots—on Sensei's orders, he assured me­—and I was free.

Unfortunately, it was also about ten minutes before the Exams began, and I was still in the same room I'd been in for too darn long. I also hadn't been walking very much, having been mostly attached to a bed, and I was not entirely confident in my traveling skills.

Eiri assured me that he would carry me if need be. I assured him that wouldn't be necessary.

I staggered into the correct room five feet behind Abura and—despite my protests—leaning heavily on Eiri. We were just in time to see a fight break out, and for a moment, I thought we had missed something. But a few moments later, an adult ordered them to stop, and I realized it was just a fight, nothing special.

Grimacing as we were told we had to take a written test, I slid into my assigned seat and nearly had a heart attack when Gaara sat beside me. I continually shot furtive, terrified glances in his direction, wondering if he would recognize me. Then, of course, I realized that he'd only seen me the one time, and he hadn't really _looked._

But my headband still said Suna.

I listened to Ibiki Morino tell us the rules and wondered what the difference between starting with zero points and starting with ten was. After all, we'd end up with the same number of points as we had correct problems either way.

Then again, _all_ the rules seemed a bit… _off_, and I was curious as to why Morino stressed something so obvious as cheating. _Shinobi have to be honorable, I guess_, was my thought. _Or there are idiots in every bunch._

My jaw nearly hit the desk when I saw the problems scrawled across the page as it was handed to me. I could _not_ pass this.

Abura could pass this. Eiri had a chance at any question that involved weapons, and at least half of them did.

If I was _lucky_, I could answer one of these. Maybe two at the outside.

I was halfway through a complicated formula that I _knew_ was wrong when it hit me.

My head collided painfully with wood; my neighbor (not Gaara) glanced oddly my way. Smiling sheepishly, I raised my head and glanced around.

I was freakin' _supposed_ to cheat.

I couldn't help but feel a bit relieved, as there was no way I could complete these problems on my own. Now the question was who to cheat off of.

Maybe I was biased, but I figured Gaara was a pretty safe bet in terms of _right_ answers. _And_ he was sitting right next to me. On the other hand, I didn't want to die if I slipped up and was caught.

So… Since I didn't know which of the other genin knew the answers, that left the proctors along the walls.

And that left the shadows.

Breathing deeply and praying I wouldn't faint, I sank into the darkness, bleeding chakra into the shadows cast by the walls. Doing my best to control it—already, my vision was starting to fracture—I strained to see the answers.

Well, yippee. This guy didn't have them.

Scowling, not realizing my pupils had expanded and taken over my eyes, I shifted my view. One of the other proctors had answers that looked right to me; I did my best to memorize them before my control shattered and I released the images.

Breathing heavily, I started to write down what I remembered.

-o-

A/N: STALKER POWERS ENHANCED! XD


	9. A Threat

A/N: I just realized that practically my whole story is filler. Aww… :( Oh well, hopefully, y'all like it anyway. I know you're just drawn in by Takara-chan the Stalker. XD

…I think there might be Gaara in the next chapter! Hooray!

-o-

"If you try to answer the question and you get it wrong, you will never be permitted to apply for the journeyman ninja exams again. Not ever."

I listened with growing apprehension to the threats and promises issuing from Morino's mouth. Never again? Why would they do that? _Isn't refusing to give up a good shinobi quality? _I wondered desperately. _If we're willing to keep trying, shouldn't they give us another chance?_ Nervously, my fingers began tapping on the desk. I was only here _because_ I'd been given another chance.

Breathing deeply, I stilled my fingers and turned to look at my teammates. Abura, smiling slightly, gave me the tiniest of nods; Eiri's thumb was in the air, a grin plastered across his face. They had confidence, and I had answers, so my hands stayed firmly on the desk. It was better to fail than to never try.

Besides, Gaara wasn't quitting. I had to stick around.

-o-

"Whaaaaaat?" Eiri wailed as we all trailed out of the room after being briefly—well, almost nonexistently—filled in on the next test. "I can't believe it!"

_I _still couldn't believe it had been that easy—well, simple; maybe not so easy—to pass the exam, but I didn't think that was what Eiri was talking about.

Abura snickered. "You cheated off someone with the wrong answers? Cheh, didn't you notice when they didn't have the weapons ones right?"

Eiri looked mournful. "Ehhhhh, I didn't look at all of them! And she had that one right…" He turned to me, eyes wide and woeful.

"Takara-chaaaaaan, Abura-kun says I had the wrong answers!"

Nearly choking on barely-stifled laughter, I gasped, "So I hear," wiping away tears.

"Takara-chaaaaaaaaa!" he wailed.

"How'd you guys cheat, anyway?" I inquired, trying to get my breath back.

"I didn't," Abura replied promptly.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, "Professional liars don't believe lies." Not strictly true, but oh well. That was my job.

"Cheh, I got lucky," he admitted, grinning. "I just copied the person next to me; he had them right. That way, I didn't have to do any work."

So he could have passed it, he just didn't feel like it.

"Ehh, Abura-kun, you sound like a Nara!" Eiri complained.

"A who?" I asked.

"Ehhh, Takara-chan, you need to get out more," he informed me. "All cooped up, you can't meet aaaaaanyone."

"I was sort of tied to a bed, remember?" I glared pointedly; he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"So, how'd you get the wrong answers?" Abura snuck in.

"And what's a Nara?" I added.

"Ehhhh… I was chucking some kunai around, like the proctors were." Only Eiri had the skill to make his kunai look like they had come from someone all the way across the room. Apparently, he was a closet ventriloquist, too, 'cause he explained the he'd failed a couple of people that way. "Then I used the reflections to see the answers to the ones I didn't know. It was haaaard," he whined. "All shiny and reflecty…"

Abura snickered.

"What's a Nara?" I persisted.

"Ehhhhhh. They're a family of lazy shinobi."

"Shadow-users," Abura added. "Like you."

"Whaaaaaaaaat?"

"Not you!"

"Ehh…"

I elbowed Eiri and gave Abura my full attention as we walked. "Shadow-users."

"Cheh, maybe you're related."

"Please elaborate," I grated, stealing from Chie-sensei.

"Cheh, I don't feel like it. You're the one who's so good at gathering information."

I blinked at him. "What?"

"How else could you know so much about that monster?" He grinned mischievously; my face flamed red.

"Ehhhh, she's blushing!" Eiri crowed.

"This is _anger_," I said flatly.

"Blushing, blushing!" he chanted, earning himself an elbow from Abura, who said, "That's annoying."

"Quite," I grumbled.

"Awwww. Takara-chan's sulking noooooow."

"That's annoying, too."

"Sooooo?"

"So you're gonna get punched."

"Can't catch me!!"

"Remind me again why we count him responsible enough to have many sharp, pointy, and decidedly lethal objects?" I interjected.

"We don't," Abura replied. "We just put them in his hands and send him on his way. Point and shoot."

"Point and shoot," I agreed.

"Ehhhhhhhhh," Eiri said.

-o-

"Cheh, survival? Piece of cake!" Abura smirked. "We had to pass a survival test to become genin!"

"In the desert," I pointed out. "We don't know much about the forest."

"Cheh, Sensei taught us a bit on the way," he scoffed. The heel of my hand collided with my forehead.

"Abura-kun! Don't be stupid!"

"Ehhhhh, we can handle it," cut in Eiri. "There's a looot more food in the forest!"

"Of _Death_," I pointed out through gritted teeth. "There are a lot more plants that could be poisonous!"

"We'll be fiiiiiiiiine."

"Don't blame me when you all die," I grumbled, signing my release form with only a little hesitation and handing it in. Abura and Eiri followed suit, and we received an Earth scroll in return.

"Ah," I murmured. "So we have to acquire divinity to pass."

"Takara-chan, you're weeeeeeeeeeeird."

"Aren't we all?" I replied mournfully.

"Cheh, we _chose_ this life," Abura pointed out.

"And that only serves to prove my statement," I responded brightly.

We walked by Gaara's squad just in time for me to see Kankuro narrow his eyes at Gaara, leading me to believe he was thinking something nasty. I turned on him, but Abura grabbed my arm and continued dragging me toward gate nine. I scowled at the fire-user, but he just muttered, "Stealth means _not_ drawing attention to yourself."

"So?"

"So you're the stealthy one. Shut up and keep walking."

"…Thanks a lot, Abura-kun."

"Cheh, not a problem."

"That was sarcasm."

"I know."

"_Part two of the journeyman ninja selection exams begins… NOW!!"_

-o-

A/N: I have the feeling that Eiri-kun is someone I would absolutely hate in real life because he would drive me crazy. But… I love my little Eiri-kun. -hugs-

Yes, I'm weird. Get over it. :D

My chapters are kind of getting shorter again, but at least they're not as short as they were in the beginning. Sorry, I'll try and lengthen them. Oh, and some of the quotes in this one—Ibiki and Anko, to be exact—were taken directly from the manga. So I don't own those quotes.

Did I ever do a disclaimer?

I DON'T FREAKIN' OWN THE NARUTO CHARACTERS. Come on, that's why this is a FANFICTION site. I think you know that they're not mine, as much as I WOULD like to own Gaara-sama. XD

I just realized that the only canon characters so far mentioned are the Sand Sibs and Baki, plus Ibiki…

Oh yeah, and Takara-chan, Eiri-kun, Abura-kun, Chie-sensei, and all the other non-canon characters are made up by meeeeeeeeeeeee. :D


	10. A Tendency

**EDIT/** This is important: I'm taking a VERY short break from this, as much as I don't want to, to write a short story for my school's Literary Magazine. No worries: The stories are due in less than two weeks, and hopefully I'll have this one done in just a week, so that I can get back to this fanfic. :) Thanks. Now, on to your regularly scheduled nonsense story.

A/N: First off, I want to dedicate this chapter _especially_ to Liz-chan and KP-san, who not only faithfully review every chapter, but also managed to turn my day yesterday from something horrific to something just a little bit better. :)

To everyone else out there who's reading this, please review!!

OK, Chapter TEN!! WOOHOO!! A big thank you to EVERYONE; this is officially my longest fanfic ever now. Well, Red Ninja probably has more pages, but this one is going to have way more chapters, so it will thus be longer than RN. Yayz. :) So thanks to everyone reading and especially to everyone reviewing.

As a reward, here's a super-long chapter!

-o-

"So, what's our strategy?" Abura asked as we stepped through the ninth gate into the Forest of Death. Instinctively, I slipped into the shadows of the trees and walked through the gloom instead of the occasional ray of sunlight.

"Whaaaaaat? Strategy?" said Eiri. I held in a hopeless sigh.

"Yes, Eiri-kun, a _strategy_," responded Abura as if he were speaking to a small and particularly ignorant child, but he was grinning. "I'll make it simpler for you: a _plan_."

"We follow Gaara-san," I said promptly.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, this is no time for your stalkerish tendencies to take ahold."

"My stalkerish tendencies are not ta—my _what_?"

Abura snickered evilly. "Your stalkerish tendencies," he repeated.

"Staaaaaaalker," Eiri sang.

"Cheh, quiet down, you'll tell other shinobi where we are," Abura ordered—as if we were hidden—but there was no real force behind his words; he was still grinning widely. "We still need a plan, anyway, so stop singing and think."

"We_have_ a plan," I protested. "Think about it. Gaara-san will probably kill—or at least scare off—everyone in his way. That leaves us with an easy path to the tower."

"And what about a _scroll_?" Abura inquired.

"If we're lucky—"

"_Lucky_?" he repeated incredulously. "We can't base our strategy on _luck_!"

"If we're lucky," I plowed on, "he'll leave the scrolls on some of the bodies. Admit it, it's a brilliant plan."

"Cheh, it's a _horrible_ plan."

"Yaaaaaah, Takara-chan, it kind of is."

"Why?" I scowled.

"Cheh, this is _Sabaku no Gaara_ we're talking about. The moment he finds out we're following him, we're deader than doorknobs. And what if he has a Heaven scroll and wants our Earth?"

"He won't kill us!" I protested.

"And why not?"

"Because…" Eiri and Abura still didn't know that we were just cannon fodder in the grand scheme of things. Plus, I wasn't really sure that would stop Gaara anyway. "We're from his village."

"Cheh, that's not even going to make him hesitate," Abura said flatly, and I knew that he was absolutely right.

This was _not_ fair. I was going to tell them, and forget the Council. They could go drown. In the desert.

…Yeah.

As I opened my mouth to speak, a pulpy pink mass plummeted from above—straight for my head. Abura snapped and it was incinerated in a burst of fiery chakra a split second before a kunai zipped through the space its fluttering ashes now occupied.

That was when I realized I was probably going to be next to useless in a fight.

"Cheh. Giant leech. Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed."

"Are we going to follow Gaara?" I whispered.

"_No!_" he hissed, but I couldn't help but notice that we followed him in the general direction of gate six.

And I hadn't even realized that Abura _knew_ which gate Gaara had taken.

-o-

"Hey, look, there he is," I whispered from the bushes, pointing to the red-haired shinobi as he plodded through the trees. Unfortunately, it only earned me an elbow and a hissed, "_Stealth._" Grumbling, I poured small streams of chakra into the massive tree-cast shadows; the natural dappling of my fishnet sleeves and the darkness of my black t-shirt made less chakra necessary, which is why I chose the outfit.

Leaving Abura furious and Eiri bewildered, I began creeping across semi-open ground before either of them could stop me.

A moment later, I blinked, and was suddenly facing a confrontation between the Sands Sibs and a squad of shinobi from Amegakure. Mentally cursing whatever had just happened, I scrambled backwards, making more noise than I intended to. Luckily, the ninja apparently dismissed the sounds as coming from one of this forest's numerous creatures; I was ignored.

Regaining my silence, I crept around the perimeter of the conflict instead of returning to my squad. Keeping my eyes locked on Gaara, I slipped through the bushes and didn't notice the Konoha squad until I was practically on top of them.

It was a good thing their attention was also held by the approaching battle, because my cloak of shadows was wearing thin. Slowly, I backed up and wondered what the best away to handle this was. If I alerted them to my presence in any way, they'd doubtless be startled and blow _all_ our cover.

And I may have been obsessed with Gaara, but I still didn't want to die by his hand. Not right now, anyway.

I took a few gentle steps forward, this time letting my feet make quiet sounds as they collided with the earth. The boy with the half-hidden face and the dark glasses turned to discover the source of the sound; the other two were too absorbed.

Finger on my lips, urging him to stay quiet, I faded into view and crept forward a few more paces; I wanted to hear Gaara speak.

The mysterious blue-shirted genin turned back to his squad and tapped his male teammate on the shoulder. "As quiet as an insect, someone has crept upon us," he said softly. "But it is not time to fight."

Startled, the boy with the thick, fuzzy coat turned to look at me, revealing the puppy stuffed down his shirt. I blinked in surprise as a nervous-looking girl also directed her pupilless gaze towards me.

Dog-boy grinned and nodded; they all returned their attention to the looming battle. Silently, I crept forward to join them.

"What's he saying, Kiba?" asked the one with the sunglasses; I presumed he was talking about Gaara and leaned forward eagerly.

"He's most frightened of the big one… very dangerous!" came the whispered reply. Bewildered, I blinked; Gaara wasn't frightened. Who were they talking about?

"Are you going to fight us… or talk us to death?" I heard faintly, and returned my concentration to the conflicting shinobi. Mesmerized by Gaara's low voice and barely able to hear, I slowly began to move forward, only to find myself restrained.

Glancing back, I saw Sunglasses-boy's hand on my shoulder. "Now is the time to calm yourself and not get into fights you cannot win," he said tranquilly.

I stared. Did he think I wanted to _fight_ them? _But I guess he doesn't know me. _"I'm not going to join the battle," I hissed. "I just can't really hear what Gaara's saying."

"…Until we found out if they had the scroll we need!" Kankuro was protesting, but Gaara was having none of it.

"Anyone who crosses me," he said icily, "is dead meat."

"He is so freakin' _cool_," I muttered.

"Sounds good to me!!" the lead Ame-nin declared, whipping out several bamboo parasols. "Ready or not… here I come!"

Flinging the parasols into the air, he threatened, "You're dead, kid!" I snorted derisively even as a thousand needles sprung from the spinning dervishes and whirled around Gaara.

"The parasols are spring-loaded with flying needles!" Kiba cried. I cringed, certain we would be discovered, but the other shinobi were too distracted.

I watched with thinly-veiled glee and blatant awe as Gaara stood perfectly still, refusing even to look up. Beside me, Kiba's jaw was open, and the girl's face was filled with trepidation; the other boy remained mostly collected, though his brow was furrowed.

"That was almost too easy," the Ame-nin smirked as Gaara disappeared in a cloud of dust and needles. But a moment later, the made a sort of strangled sound of bewilderment, and I could have cheered.

Clouds of smoke from the impact drifted away, no longer obscuring the red-haired shinobi. Shockingly—to the other ninja, anyway—in place of a bloody corpse, a gritty, sandy, cracked egg protected Gaara from the lethal barrage.

"Is that all you've got?" he challenged coldly as the shell crumbled only slightly.

"Impossible…" Wide-eyed, the shinobi proclaimed his disbelief and tried again, but the needles only thudded futilely into more gritty gold.

"A downpour of one thousand needles, eh? Well, it's my turn… to respond with a deluge of blood."

I swear, if the Konoha genin hadn't still had his hand on my shoulder, I would have been halfway toward Gaara. Invisibly, of course, but I felt like worshipping at that boy's feet.

"His chakra… it's immense…!" Kiba breathed. "And that sand… the smell of…"

"What smell?" the other boy asked.

"Blood," I guessed, the corners of my lips twitching.

"It stinks of blood," Kiba confirmed.

Kankuro was foolishly revealing the secret of Gaara's defense; I nudged Kiba and muttered, "Listen to this." If Kankuro was telling, I figured they might as well learn something awesome.

"You're not good enough to touch our Gaara," Kankuro smirked, and I actually felt like cheering _him_. It was possibly the best thing he'd ever said.

"Shut up, you—!!" Furious, the bested genin raced toward Gaara, but the red-haired sand-nin solemnly brought the tips of his fingers together in front of his pale face. A moment later, his hand shot out and grainy fingers rose from the ground, scrabbling greedily at the Ame-nin's body. In a matter of seconds, sand had wrapped completely around the man and immobilized him entirely.

Shock registered on everyone's faces—except mine—as the trapped shinobi wailed of his inability to move. Despite his complaints, he then announced that he could easily free himself, only to find he could do no such thing.

"If you don't stop yapping, I'll seal your lips… and cut off your air," Gaara threatened. "But you're hardly worth it," he added coldly, wrapping his hand around a parasol that had landed right in front of him. Lifting the bamboo into the air, he thrust his arm out once more and clenched his fist as if grabbing the Ame genin's life in his hand.

A second later, the sand crushed down and scarlet rain fell all around. Protected by his umbrella, Gaara was left untouched by the showering blood.

"It's quick… and painless," he noted icily. "I used far more force than was necessary to ensure that." I was grinning like a complete idiot as I listened to him speak. "Bitter, crimson tears flow from lifeless eyes and mingle with the endless sands bestowing ever-greater power upon the Demon God."

_Oh, you're a god alright, _I thought gleefully.

"Here… take the scroll," the other two Ame-nin pleaded, placing it on the ground. "Please… just let us go!"

Gaara killed them in silence without a second thought.

"Let's get out of here… while we still can!" Kiba cried. "If they spot us, we're dead meat!"

"You're yelling loud enough to bring them over here," I muttered. "Try being quiet." I was, however, ignored as the three Konoha genin turned to flee. They froze a moment later as Gaara contradicted Kankuro's professed desire to head for the tower immediately with "Not yet!"

Kankuro paused, alarmed, as Gaara went on, "No… I still haven't been sated…"

Kiba and his team shuddered in fear; I shuddered in pure awe. My heart felt like it was going to explode with excitement.

"Aw, man! Does he know we're here!?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," I muttered in response to Kiba's panicked inquiry.

"Come on, Gaara, let's go," Kankuro wheedled.

"Are you frightened…? Coward!"

A bead of sweat rolled down Kankuro's face as he began attempting to persuade Gaara of his siblings' lack of invulnerability.

"Fool… I don't take orders from you."

"That's enough!" Kankuro ordered, bravely forging on. "Just for once, Gaara, listen to what your big brother tells you!"

"I've never thought of either of you as my siblings," Gaara growled. "Cross me, and I'll kill you."

There was silence then, and a staring match Kankuro could never win. A moment later, the younger of the two slapped away his brother's hand and flung his arm out to the side. At this point, Temari entered the discussion, doing her best to persuade him now.

The Konoha genin beside me panicked as Gaara's gaze turned toward our bush and sand whirled around us. Temari, too, cried out her youngest brother's name as Gaara's fist closed.

It opened slightly to reveal the cork for his gourd, waterfalls of sand pouring off it. "Okay…fine," he muttered in reluctant acquiescence, plugging his gourd and trudging away.

"Ugh… That's why I hate kids," Temari grumbled as the Konoha genin collapsed in a puddle of relief.

-o-

A/N: MAN, that is LONG!! -faints- Yeah, I basically wrote this with volume seven open in front of me, so almost all the lines are directly from the manga. Obviously, Takara-chan's aren't, and anything that was said directly to her wasn't. Thus, I DON'T OWN THOSE LINES!

MORE CANON CHARACTERS! YAYZ!

I don't know much about Shino, so I hope I got his personality down okay. I know that Kiba said something about how he managed to relate_everything_ to bugs, so I had him say that about Takara-chan. I kinda liked that line. :D

STALKERISH TENDENCIES!! XD I so wanted to name the chapter that…


	11. A Shortcut

A/N: So… I gave up on my short stories. I just couldn't help thinking about this ALL. THE. TIME. So it's back. :)

Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to one person and one person only, and that is Liz (Element Girls). And do you know why? BECAUSE SHE FREAKIN' DREW THEM! She drew Takara-chan and her squad—and they look freakin' AMAZING. -faints- Takara-chan's hair looks so freakin' perfect that it's not even funny… and she's captured them perfectly… and… and… IT'S AWESOME!! -cries with joy-

Well, it hasn't been posted on deviantArt yet—she just sent it to me—so I will link to it as soon as it's up. IT. IS. INCREDIBLE.

-o-

Even the calm, collected boy with the sunglasses was breathing somewhat erratically as the three of them relaxed. I, on the other hand, was a bit disappointed that Gaara was gone, but that was just me.

The dog in Kiba's coat whined nervously, and the boy commented, "No wonder Akamaru was so upset… You were trying to warn us, eh, boy?"

"Excuse me," I said politely, staring at him. "Are you talking to that dog?" I knew people often talked to their pets, but it was rarely as if the pets could talk back.

Kiba flashed me a lopsided grin and nodded cheerfully. He seemed about to launch into an explanation, but the other boy cut him off with, "What do you mean?"

"Akamaru was trying to tell us that the big guy was _in danger_, not _dangerous!_" Kiba explained. "He meant the kid from Sand was going to kill him!"

"You better know it," I muttered, smirking with satisfaction.

"Yeah… that kid from Sunagakure… whatever his story is, he's deadly," Sunglasses-Boy said in a low voice.

"You won't meet anyone deadlier," I informed them proudly.

The nervous-looking girl finally piped up and spoke for the first time. "W-who a-a-are y-you?" she stuttered so quietly I barely caught the words.

I blinked at her for a moment. "Oh—I'm Aru. Kosuke Aru. I'm from Suna, too, as you can see." I nodded at the _hitai-ate_ around my waist. "Pleased to be at your service. May I ask your names?"

"Inuzuka Kiba!" Dog-Boy cheered, waving, "and Akamaru!"

"Yeah, I got that." I grinned.

"Shino," offered the boy with the sunglasses, and nothing else. I pegged him as 'smart'.

"Y-you c-c-can call me H-Hinata," mumbled the girl. She was either also smart, or she'd learned from Shino's example, but she gave no surname.

"Well, I must be going now," I said cheerfully, edging back, but not wanting to fade in front of them. "Nice meeting you—and watch out for Gaara-sama. He's a wild one."

"Do all shinobi from Suna have such loyalty to their comrades?" inquired Shino quietly.

"Eh… Not all," I said nervously, smiling tensely. "I have to get back to my squad… See you in the next round!"

Not that I knew I would, but it made a nice parting line. I darted across the open ground, crouched low, back toward my own team. I only regret not finding out if I could somehow get their scroll.

-o-

"_What_ was that all about?" Abura demanded as I slipped back into view beside him.

"Takara-chaaaan, you almost gave me a heart attack," Eiri complained, idly drawing in the dirt with a kunai.

"I take it you saw," I replied brightly.

"I saw that you're an _idiot._"

"But I'm _your_ idiot, right?" I smiled winningly.

"Cheh, not on your life."

"Aw, come on, I learned something."

"Whaaaaaaat?"

Grudgingly, Abura repeated, "What?"

"Gaara-san—"

"Stalkerish tendencies," interrupted Abura in a mock warning tone.

I scowled. "Gaara-san's squad needed the Heaven scroll." I felt a brief moment of burning happiness, knowing that Gaara and I were the same. "But the group he just killed had one. They've a complete set now—and they're on their way to the tower. If we follow them and somehow pick up a scroll on the way, we're home free."

Abura gritted his teeth. "Cheh, why can you not get it through your head? That won't stop him from killing us!"

Glowering, I went on, "Also, there's a squad of Konoha genin consisting of Inuzuka Kiba, who can talk to dogs, plus a Shino and a Hinata. Hear anything about them while we were in Konoha?"

"Hinata's a Hyuugaaaaaaa," Eiri offered, now tossing a shuriken repeatedly into the air and doodling at the same time. "I dunno much about them, but they're faaaaamous."

"Well, that was helpful," I muttered, rising from my crouching position. "Come on, team! We're going to lose Gaara's trail!"

"Good," Abura said under his breath.

I poked him in the head. Delighted, Eiri joined in—thankfully, with_out_ his kunai. "It's a good plan."

"Cheh, it's _not_."

"Just watch. We'll make it to the tower in no time."

"Cheh, you just keep deluding yourself if it makes you happy."

"It's not a delusion!"

"…Whatever you say, Takara-chan. Whatever you say."

"Whaaaaat? We're listening to herrrrr now?"

"Ye—" I began happily, but Abura cut me off with one extraordinarily icy word.

"_NO_."

-o-

"Takara-chaaaaaaaaan!" Eiri wailed. "You said we'd reach the tower in noooooo time. It's been two daaaaaays."

"Oh, be quiet," I grumbled. "It's not my fault that we lost Gaara-san's trail or that we haven't met any shinobi along the way. It's a big forest, you know, and how was _I_ supposed to know that word would get around to avoid him?"

"Cheh, you could have thought it out better. I _told_ you it was a bad plan."

"And yet you went along with it," I flared. "And here you are."

After two days in each other's close and unending company, we were learning more about each other than we'd ever wanted to know—like the fact that Eiri had somehow managed to get ahold of boxers with shuriken print. Who wanted to know that?!

Tempers were wearing thin, though, and that was what mattered.

"Here I am," Abura agreed. "And wishing I wasn't."

"Not. My. Fault," I grated. "_I_wasn't the one who wanted to take a _shortcut_."

"Cheh, that's true, _Eiri_-kun."

"Whaaaaaaaaat?" he said blankly.

"Don't try to pretend." I narrowed my eyes at him. "_You_ said we should take a shortcut. _We _demanded to know how the heck we could find a shortcut in a place we didn't even know the _long_cut through. But you insisted.

"And Abura-kun," I went on, "remind me again why we _did_ end up following him on his so-called _shortcut._"

"Cheh. He threatened to leave without us." The corners of the fire specialist's mouth twitched.

"Ah, yes, he was going to take it anyway." Both Abura and I were advancing on Eiri now, wicked grins on our faces. "And we know where _that_ would have left _him_."

"Alone," Abura supplied.

"And Eiri lost and alone is… dangerous."

"_Very_ dangerous," Abura agreed, snapping his fingers idly; flame flickered into being at their tips. "There's no one to… point and shoot."

"So we have _him_ to blame for this… delay…" I snickered evilly.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Eiri cried.

-o-

"So, now that the dreadful Eiri-kun has been subdued, what are we going to do?"

Abura glanced over at the weapons master. We had trussed him up with his own ninja wire; I fully expected him to be free in a matter of minutes. Seconds, if he didn't mind cutting his wire.

"Cheh, I say we just head for the tower directly. Let's face it—everyone with a scroll or two—or more—is going to be headed that way, too, and we'll maybe run into someone we can handle."

"I would agree," I responded, sighing slightly. "It's probably what we should have done right from the beginning… Well, as soon as we lost Gaara-san, anyway."

Abura rolled his ashen blue eyes as he rose from the log he'd been occupying. "Let's go, then."

"You know what we should do?" I said thoughtfully.

"Get a move on?"

"Mark the trees. In case we need to, you know, retrace our steps."

This suggestion earned me some odd looks. "Cheh, have you seen the size of these trees? We'd never be able to _find_ our own marks without making them big enough for _everyone_ to see. Besides, why would we want to go _backwards_?"

"Shortcut," I said pointedly, then added, "What if we, I dunno, reach a dead end?"

"…In a forest?"

"They can be near enough to the ground that they're less noticeable," I went on, ignoring him. "And we could make them look like animal claw marks if we used a kunai and worked at it."

"I'll do it," Eiri volunteered, the afore-mentioned kunai already in his hand as his brilliant blue eyes glowed with zeal.

"Uh, no," I said, plucking that blade from his hand, knowing it wouldn't deplete his store in the least. "_I'll_ do it."

I walked over to the nearest tree and crouched down, only to hear a_ thok_ as something thudded into the tree trunk above my head. Glancing up, I saw a giant leech pinned to the wood by one of Eiri's limitless kunai.

"Nice shot," I complimented, breathing a sigh of relief.

A moment later, I heard a rustling, as if several objects were falling through the foliage. I looked up again to find at least a hundred giant leeches plummeting toward us.

"Abura!" I panicked, shrinking into the shadows as if they would protect me.

Eiri was picking off as many as he could—which was actually quite a few—but in the meantime, Abura drew in a huge breath. His chest swelled, and he puffed out a massive blast of flame that rose into the air, spreading out like the sky, and incinerated all the leeches.

The fire specialist sat down—hard—and I wobbled slightly as my knees threatened to collapse with relief.

"Why aren't the trees burning?" Eiri asked inconsequentially.

-o-

A/N: A little bit of a longer chapter… I was going to put that end part in the next chap, but I figured… hey, why not. -shrugs- Hope you enjoyed—and thanks so much, Liz!! -glomps-


	12. A Trap

A/N: Go here, NOW (and yes, replace the (dot)s with actual dots):

element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Obsession-78834225

This is the picture of Takara-chan's squad, drawn and colored by the incredible… LIZ! –glomps Liz- It's seriously amazing, and this is EXACTLY what the characters look like. :D Especially Takara-chan's AWESOME hair, which I can't get over. XD

Also… I can't write summaries to save my life, so if someone wants to suggest one, I'd love them forever. XD

So… here's chapter 12! This one's for you, Liz. Again. XD

-o-

"Shh, I hear something," I murmured, slowing down and dropping into a crouch.

"Cheh, this is a forest," Abura said pointedly.

"Yeah, okay. I hear something else." I rolled my eyes. "Like I would mention it if it were a normal forest sound."

"Is it shinoooooobi?"

"So I would presume."

"Do they have a Heaven scroll?" Abura demanded.

"How should I know?" I flared.

"Find ouuuuuut," Eiri suggested.

"Why don't _you_ do it?" I demanded.

"_Don't_," Abura said warningly. "Eiri couldn't be quiet to save his life. Cheh, he'd give himself away in a matter of seconds. _You're_ the information-gatherer."

I scowled at him. "I'm running out of chakra, you know."

"So long as it stays _running_ out and not _ran_ out."

Glowering, I raised two fingers in front of my face and concentrated until I bled into the shadows. I was not exactly perfectly hidden, but it would do. As long as these genin didn't pay _too_ much attention to the shadows.

Abura and Eiri slunk back against the trees. They couldn't hide as efficiently as me, but they could still be _quiet_. After all, they were ninja, and ninja were trained to be stealthy. Generally.

I crept through the trees, staying so close to the trunks that my fishnet sleeves caught on the bark as I slid by. This was in order to avoid being hit by the final shafts of light from the dying sun, as it was harder to hide with flourishing gold spotlights pointing me out.

On the other hand, dying sun also meant it was getting dark. Approaching night made it easier to avoid detection.

But it _also_ made it harder to see.

I almost walked right through the campsite before I realized my feet had moved through soil of a different consistency. Further exploration with my hands revealed it to be freshly, hastily, and poorly scattered ashes.

Key word being _freshly_. Someone had recently vacated this spot, and in a hurry. They might have left something behind.

Eyes straining through the growing darkness, I cast around for further clues. An oblong shape that look suspiciously like a scroll—or a very small log—snagged my attention; I moved toward it. My breath caught in my throat as I made out the kanji for Heaven on the scroll's side.

This was the scroll we needed, just sitting here for the taking, with no guards. It looked like it had been forgotten.

My hand froze, trembling, millimeters above the scroll as I realized how stupid I was.

_I. Am. An. IDIOT,_ I thought furiously, mentally beating myself about the head. _There are so many ways that this is a trap, it's not even funny. And I almost fell for it._

I_ did_ feel pretty foolish, but I had noticed it in time, so I was okay. Instead, I took a mental step back and thought about those reasons.

First off, it was too freakin' obvious. Anyone who had gotten this far alive would not be stupid enough to leave their scroll behind. _Duh._

Secondly, so as not to provide a way out for Reason One, the group couldn't have just been killed. The scroll was _still there_—who would just leave it behind?—and the ashes hadn't been scattered by ghosts.

Third, it was just a _brilliant_ plan. Most people looking to get a Heaven scroll would be doing it because they had an _Earth_ scroll. So, lure 'em in with the one you have and grab the one you need. It would be especially effective on the last day, when everyone left was desperate. I'd have to suggest it to Eiri and Abura if we didn't have a scroll by then. We could rig up some traps and—

Wait a minute. Traps.

Slowly turning my head, I wondered why I wasn't caught in any already. At practically the same moment, a net slid out of the dirt and leaves under me and carried me up into the trees.

"This sucks," I muttered. "But at least it's easy." Pulling out a kunai, I promptly proceeded to cut the ropes.

I plummeted safely to the ground only to find a metal cage closing around me. Growling, I kicked the bars; they resonated a bit, but did not fall apart.

When faced with three genin—two dark-haired boys with wolfish grins and a mischievously smiling blonde girl—slipping out of the trees and looking quite ready to kill, I didn't hesitate to call my team.

"Eiri-kun! Abura-kun! Get your butts over here!"

What else were teammates for?

The genin—it looked like they were from Kumogakura, but I might have been mistaken—took a few steps forward as I finally managed to get my kunai around the bars and into the lock. The cage sprung open, then collapsed, and I took a step back.

…Only to feel something tightening around my ankle. I glanced down to see a rope firmly knotted there and dragging me ever-so-slowly _down_. I swore.

These genin had the campsite so rigged with traps, it was a wonder they could even move through it themselves. Like spiders in a web, they advanced, looking somewhat bloodthirsty.

"Heyyyyyyyy, Takara-chaaaaaaaan!" came from above me as I tugged futilely at the rope. I was trying to bend down and cut it, but the position was a bit awkward; I looked up instead, and panicked.

"No, Eiri-kun, don't!" I cried as the weapons master dropped from a tree branch and plunged toward the scroll.

"Why nooooooooooot?" he demanded happily as he landed right on top of the prize. Seconds later, he was so wrapped in cords that it was a wonder he could even breathe.

"_That's_ why," I moaned.

Weaving delicately—no doubt _around_ the traps—the female genin left her teammates behind and moved toward us. She stopped in front of Eiri, her icy blue eyes locked on his. Slowly, she pushed him backwards and retrieved her scroll. Eiri fell, triggering another cage—this one made of wood—as I'm sure she intended.

"Ehhhhh," Eiri complained, struggling against the ropes.

"Now," said the girl tranquilly, smiling pleasantly. "The Earth scroll, if you please."

I stared at her. That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. Trapped or no, there was no reason for us to simply hand over our scroll.

Her lips twitched. As if reading my mind, she added, "Or else you'll never make it out through all those traps."

"Made it in, didn't I?" I snapped weakly. She smirked.

"_Before_ they were set."

A moment later, the charred remains of wood and rope slid off Eiri's body, and he yelped with joy. He was a little scorched—okay, so his eyebrows weren't going to match his hair for a little while—but Abura's aim was excellent. I found myself free as well, and prudently stayed _exactly_ where I was as I looked up.

Abura was crouched on a tree branch—and so far, there didn't appear to be any traps up there. Practically, the fire specialist was _staying_ there. He was the one with the scroll, after all.

"Ah, so you have it," deduced the girl in a stunning display of common sense.

"Cheh, what're you gonna do about it?"

The girl smiled brilliantly, making her look a good deal more lighthearted. "'M gonna take it," she announced, grinning widely.

It was about this point that her wolfy twin boys in the background disappeared in a storm of various pointy objects. Momentarily disarmed, the blonde girl looked around, then _moved_, reappearing behind Eiri. She had a kunai at the ready; without thinking, I whipped a shuriken at her. It missed what I was aiming for—the kunai—but it distracted her sufficiently _and_ alerted Eiri to her presence.

He spun around with a "Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" scrambling backwards until thick, scratchy ropes began snaking around his arms. Knowing he could probably wield his weapons with his feet, I left Eiri to get himself free and concentrated on the girl.

I launched myself at her, jumping wrong and twisting my ankle but still managing to land on top of her without hitting the ground on the way. She fell, and I fell with her; more ropes began snaking out of the ground and around us, binding us together. A moment later, they fell limp as she drained out the chakra that gave them life.

Well, okay. I could activate as many traps as I wanted now, as long as she was with me.

"It's like they live off ropes," Eiri wailed, sawing away at his bindings with his body contorted into a position that didn't look humanly possible but obviously was.

I pulled back my arm to punch the girl beneath me; she caught my fist and threw me to the side. I squeaked and leapt backward repeatedly, trying not to stay in the same place long enough to be caught, as I watched Eiri break free and use his kunai to aid him in scrambling up a tree.

Somehow, I managed to dance my way in a circle back toward my enemy, only tripping once or twice as living ropes snatched at my ankles. Once again, I leapt toward her and brought her down; this time, a kunai was in my hand. I wrestled the Heaven scroll from her fingers while slashing wildly with the blade, then struggled to push away from her. She was thrashing about enough that she managed to trigger—and immobilize—several traps; I shoved away from her and stood in a relatively clear area.

Before she could renew her attack, I concentrated chakra into my feet and leapt for the tree branch far above me. It didn't go so well; my fingers just barely grasped the end of a rather delicate limb, and it cracked beneath my weight, sending me plummeting down. I didn't get far before ninja wire wrapped around my wrists, digging into the skin and swinging me around.

I cried out as the wire bit deep and looked up to see Eiri expertly wielding it and Abura holding on behind. The enemy male genin were both heading toward me, one holding a sword and the other rapidly performing a jutsu's intricate seals, as my teammates pulled me up.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I scrambled up onto a much stronger branch and rubbed my wrists, wincing. Abura looked expectantly at me; I held up the Heaven scroll, and he grinned, then jerked his head to follow and darted off through the trees.

As Eiri and I followed, the weapons master flung two more kunai back toward the genin below. One slashed along the girl's cheek, leaving a bleeding line; she caught the other, glaring up at us.

But her lips were twitching, as if she were trying not to smile.

-o-

A/N: Yes, you will see more of Isane and her wolfy cronies… mwahaha… They're for Liz, Eiri's only fangirl. XD

And thanks to EVERYONE ELSE who's ever reviewed, especially KP-san, who reviews every chapter! Hugs to all. :)


	13. A Rest

A/N: Wow, I'm really excited! KP-san is working on pictures of the characters, and Liz is in the middle of another picture! OMG FANART! This is amazing! I feel so warm and fuzzy!!

Yeah… this chapter's a bit boring. Sorry about that.

Oh, and happy National Grammar Day!! Speak Well. :)

-o-

"That," I announced as we leapt through the trees toward the tower, "was a brilliant plan."

"Cheh, it failed," Abura pointed out.

"That's true," I admitted. "But we were incredibly lucky. Imagine if we had stuck together, instead of you sending me ahead. We would all have been trapped—and trapped and trapped and trapped—and they would have had our scroll easy."

Behind us, Eiri was unusually quiet—and unusually twitchy. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for followers or ambushes. He didn't want to lose our newly-won scroll either.

We all breathed sighs of relief as the tower faded into view. It was barely visible in the night, but it still stood out.

Right before we entered, I pulled my teammates aside.

"Aren't you curious about what's inside those scrolls?" I asked quietly.

"Cheh, sure," Abura answered. "But we're here. Maybe we'll find out inside."

"And maybe we won't," I contradicted. "You yourself said I was an information-gatherer. What if there's info in here that I need to know?"

"And what if there isn't?" Abura countered, snatching the Earth scroll from my outstretched hand.

"Takara-chaaan, I think we should just go iiiin," Eiri said.

"Yeah, okay," I agreed without too much reluctance. In the long run, I knew shinobi had to obey orders, no matter what.

Point and shoot, as they say.

-o-

"Ehhhhhhhhh?"

"My sentiments exactly," I agreed, staring blankly at the words on the wall. "We have to solve a _riddle_?"

"Cheh, no, we have to open both the scrolls at the same time."

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

"And how do you know that?" I asked skeptically, though it seemed plausible.

"'When both Heaven and Earth are opened together'," he quoted.

"Good point," I conceded.

"That seems kind ooooooof… oooobviouuuus."

"Yeah, well, maybe they didn't want us to have to go through anything else that was particularly strenuous?" I suggested.

"Or maybe not. Cheh, come on," Abura said, handing the Earth scroll back to me.

I looked at it. "Can I open the Heaven scroll?"

"What?"

"Well… I got it."

"Cheh, with _our_ help."

"Well, yeah, but… it was still me."

Looking disgusted, the fire specialist snatched the scroll away from me and plopped the other one in my hand.

Smiling sweetly, I orderd, "Eiri-kun, count to three."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"Count to three. You do know how, don't you?"

"Oooooooone… Twooooooo… Threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Paper slid across paper as we unrolled our hard-won prizes. For a moment, we stared in bewilderment at the symbols scribed there, then the scrolls began to sizzle. Instinctively, I dropped mine; Abura tossed his on top of it.

A cloud of smoke burst from the scroll, followed by the appearance of a shadowy figure within it. The billowing white dispersed, revealing a shinobi wearing a chūnin's vest.

"Ehhhhhhh," proclaimed Eiri as the chūnin launched into an explanation. "You pass," "train yourself," etc. I listened half-attentively, wishing for a bath and a nap with the other half of my brain. Not to mention some real food: Half-cooked fish and dirty roots weren't my favorite long-term sustenance.

None of the above seemed likely, though, as we were directed to another, more spacious room.

Spacious enough for fighting.

That was when it really hit me. I mean, I had known there would be fighting—um, _duh_—but I guess I had pushed it out of my mind, because, well… Remember that whole 'barely passable' thing? I was _better_ now, of course, but I wasn't… _good_. And that worried me. A _lot_.

A few minutes later, I was pleasantly surprised when we were given a chance to rest. We couldn't leave the tower, but there were some places we could stay. After all, at least a day or two remained before the end of this exam.

Briefly, I considered slinking off to find Gaara. It was seriously, seriously tempting, but I was too darn tired. Once we'd reached our assigned area, I promptly collapsed onto the first bedlike object I found.

"Wake me when there's real food," I ordered sleepily as Abura rolled his eyes and Eiri began ridding himself of enough weapons that he could sleep comfortably. "Or a bath. Either one will do."

-o-

I woke to someone prodding me happily and moaned in protest. "Eiri-kun, go _away_. Unless there's a bath," I added, somewhat less blearily. "Or food."

"Someone wants to taaaaaaaaaaaaalk to yoooooooooooou!" he said gleefully, poking me in the ribs.

Grumbling, I sat up, rubbing my eyes to clear them of their sleep-induced fog. What I saw left me almost certain I was still dreaming.

"How the heck are _you_ here?" I demanded of the icy-eyed trapmaster.

She smiled winningly. "It wasn't hard," she replied sweetly, giving absolutely no details whatsoever.

"You didn't have any scrolls left," I protested.

"Yes, thanks to you, we _were _faced with that little problem." She smiled again, mischievously, and I swear, her teeth were pointed. Or they could have been. "But it won't happen again."

"Well, duh, that stage of the Exams is over for us," I muttered.

"I meant you getting the better of us," she explained brightly as she sat cross-legged on the end of my hard, bedlike object. "I'm Mizu Isane, what about you?"

Admittedly, she seemed a lot more cheerful than she had in the depths of the determination-demanding forest, but that didn't mean I had to trust her. "Tsugawa Kori," I spouted, hoping she didn't run into Kiba, Shino, or Hinata; I couldn't remember what name I'd offered them. Something Aru.

Isane bounced happily on the 'bed.' I wondered how she managed it; the thing was hardly _bouncy._

"And who's tall, dark, and swoosh-haired over there in the corner?" she asked, but her eyes were locked on Eiri.

I glanced over. Abura was hardly tall—although it wasn't like he was short—and only his hair was dark. On the other hand… 'Swoosh-haired'? I couldn't help but snicker.

"Kuraho Abura" slipped out before I realized that I should have given him a fake name, too.

"And I already know Eiri-kun," she commented brightly, eyes glinting. Eiri looked unnerved.

"Ehhhhh?" he said in a small voice.

"Um, was there a point to you coming here?" I interjected.

"Just to meet the gang," the girl responded cheerfully, bouncing enthusiastically off the bed and to her feet. "And to wish you luck in the next round."

"Uh, thanks," I replied, blinking, as she slipped out the door.

"She's creeeeeeeeeeeepy," Eiri whispered.

We were silent for a minute after she'd gone, simply staring at the now-empty doorway, Then, two words broke the silence.

"'Swoosh-haired'?"

I burst into peals of laughter.

-o-

A/N: Did you SEE that? That was GROWTH! Takara-chan DIDN'T go stalk Gaara before she went to bed!

Yeah. She's dynamic. XD


	14. A Resolution

A/N: I apologize for this rather boring chapter—except for the part in the middle, mwahaha—but I wanted to get it posted tonight and ran out of ideas at the end… Ah well. I'll try to make 15 better.

OH MY GAARA, more fanart!! Go to pacificsun(dot)deviantart(dot)com and look at her pics of Eiri-kun and Abura-kun!! Thanks, KP-san! This chap's dedicated to you. :D

-o-

"Eiri-kun, I need your help.

He stared at me in complete disbelief, jaw hanging open. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"I need your help," I repeated, rolling my eyes. "I'm not ready for a fight, and I'm willing to bet that's what's happening next. So, I'd like to improve. Thus, I need your help."

"_Noooooot_ help," he contradicted. "Practice."

I frowned at him. "Then help me practice."

Sighing, he handed me a kunai.

-o-

A day later, I was even more in need of a bath and only slightly better with projectile weapons. My aim had improved somewhat, but not enough in relation to my previous skill level. In fact, it probably would have been better to ask Abura to help me. As a fire-user, he had to have extreme chakra-control; I could have used that.

Well, I still had half a day.

Groaning softly, I rolled off the rocklike bed, ready to find my pyro teammate, but I paused. If I was going to fight soon, did I really want my chakra exhausted? Probably not.

Besides, it had been _way_ too long since I had seen Gaara. Briefly,I wondered if that had anything to do with my recent dearth of lies.

I wandered down a hallway looking with my eyes rather than my shadow-sight. The point of this activity was _not_ to use up too much chakra.

Well, actually, the point of this was to see Gaara, but less chakra-use was my secondary purpose.

Figuring that he might be in a particularly bloodthirsty mood, locked up here with no one to kill, I walked silently and looked cautiously. I was searching for signs of sand around the doorways. At last, I spotted a trickle of gold scattered under one of the closed doors, then pondered just how I was going to get in.

Closer examination revealed the door to be ajar. I crept nearer, determined to see in, and hoped no one would come up behind me.

Gaara sat inside, clutching his head as if to keep it from splitting open. I still didn't know why he did that, but my throat clogged with pity; it looked painful.

Slowly, the redhead raised his gaze until he was staring at the wall, eyes turning from pained to odd. A moment later, the door exploded open; a wave of sand churned around me, catching me up and dragging me inside the room, where it proceeded to crush me painfully.

"Gaara!" cried Temari as she sprung to her feet; I hadn't seen her in the room before, due to the door. She had obviously spotted my _hitai-ate_—somehow—as she added in explanation, "She's one of the ones Baki-sensei told us about. _After_ the Chūnin Exams, remember?" Surprisingly, she glanced at me almost apologetically as she held up her hands placatingly. "Please, Gaara?"

"She's been… skulking around," he growled, shocking me. He actually _recognized_ me? It was a miracle—and I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or terrified.

"Er, Gaara, she's from our village," Temari said pleadingly.

The sand didn't relent, and I felt several of my ribs crack, but I suddenly realized that I knew almost nothing about Temari. It was totally irrelevant, but I wondered—I knew everything about Gaara, but nothing about his sister. She _seemed_ rather… meek, but Gaara had that effect on people. What kind of person was she really?

A moment later, the curiosity died as my vision wavered on the edge of blackness. If I survived this, I was going to have a hell of a time fighting, I reflected as I felt my right arm shatter beneath the sand's pressure.

"Gaara-sa—sama," I gasped, barely audible. "Please, I know it's against your better—judgment…" Judgment, ha—more like _nature_, but maybe it would help. "B-but please, don't kill me… just yet."

I wasn't entirely sure why I'd added the last two words, as if I were promising him my life for later. Except that I _did_ know that I wanted to die by Gaara's hand, whenever the time came. Hopefully, not for a while, but someday. I wasn't sure when I'd decided that for sure, either, but I suddenly knew it was true.

"Not yet," I repeated in a strangled whisper. Temari, looking oddly at me, added, "Please, for your older sister, Gaara?"

At an agonizingly slow pace, the sand slid away, millimeter by millimeter. Finally, I was dropped a few inches to the hard floor; I whimpered in pain as I hit the wood. I struggled to stand, holding my shattered arm to my chest, but ended up half-crawling from the room. I didn't make it more than a few feet before collapsing against a wall and deciding to quietly die right there.

And the kicker was, I hadn't learned a single lesson. My obsession—yes, obsession—with the monster of my childhood hadn't lessened in the least even as he'd almost killed me where I stood.

He punished bad children, and I'd been bad. I'd let him see me. Yes, I would be back—that was for certain.

But he'd never see me again.

-o-

"What the hell happened to you?" Abura demanded, staring at the blood that poured down my sides.

"…I don't want to talk about it."

"Cheh, that's nice. What happened?"

"It was Gaaaaaaaaraaaaaaaaa," Eiri crowed.

Abura's eyes hardened. "Takara-chan, you're like the older sister I never had. No one but me is allowed to hurt you."

I stared at him. "Abura-kun, that is possibly the cheesiest thing you've ever said," I informed him.

He smirked at me. "Cheh, that's 'cause I was kidding."

"So you're not going to defend me at the risk of your life?"

"_Cheh_, not a chance," he snickered.

Weakly, I stuck my tongue out at him. "Pah. Now get out of my way, I need to lie down."

"Just don't diiiiiiiiiiie," Eiri told me.

"I promise," I said, with absolutely no guarantee that I wouldn't bleed out while I was resting. "But if you could find me a medic-nin, that would be nice. I think I need to fight, uh, later today?"

"Cheh, probably," Abura agreed, sighing. "I'll see what I can do."

"I appreciate it."

"I know."

"I owe you one."

"Cheh, you owe me a _lot_."

"Yeah, okay," I mumbled, drifting off into agonizing dreams of crimson and gold.

-o-

"_You _are sooooooo in trouuuuuuble" I heard as someone—a.k.a. Eiri—jabbed me in the ribs. I yelped in pain as my eyes snapped open.

Abura stood over me, arms crossed, while Eiri amused himself by tormenting me. "And why, pray tell, is that?" I demanded in a mumble.

"Couldn't find one," he informed me.

"What!" I yelped, sitting up in bed so fast that my head spun and nearly sent me crashing back down. Excruciating pain shot through my sides and arm while I stared desperately at him. "Tell me you're joking."

"Cheh, I wish I could, believe me. No medic-nin here—doesn't make any sense. But I did find a genin who said she was training to be a medic. She's not perfect, but she can probably mend you a bit."

He stepped aside, revealing a petite girl with nut-brown hair and wide, green eyes. She looked sort of nervous, and kept throwing odd—admiring?—glances at Abura.

"Ayatsuru Shihai-san," introduced the pyro. "Meet, uh—" He looked at me, not sure which name to give.

"Tsugawa Aru, and I owe you my _life_," I promised her. "As long as you don't take it."

She smiled slightly. "Oh, I won't. I might not make you much better, but I promise that it won't get any worse. I'm long past that stage. Although I did once, with my teammate—oh dear, I'm rambling." Looking sheepish, the genin came a bit closer and leaned over me, inspecting.

"The arm's shattered like a glass vase and your ribs wouldn't protect a mosquito at this point," she murmured to herself, green eyes glowing slightly. "This might hurt, Aru-san."

"It already does," I muttered.

-o-

An hour later, I could walk, which was definitely an improvement. I still didn't have a particularly effective right arm, so it was a good thing I was left-handed, but at least it was somewhat hole.

Shihai left under a shower of thanks. Mostly, they were from me, but Abura and Eiri offered a few as well. She smiled brightly and thanked _me_ for the practice.

"Good luck!" I called after her retreating form; she responded with a wave and a call of her own.

And somehow, I wasn't entirely sure she'd do too well in a fight.

-o-

A/N: That was the introduction of Abura-kun's fangirl… Mwahahaha… yes… I don't know much else about her yet, but… well, I don't know much about Abura-kun's fangirl. That's all. ;

Thanks to all my reviewers! I LOVE YOU!! XD


	15. A Lecture

A/N: Ugh, sorry for this long wait! I had a mild case of writer's block that mostly came from the fact that I'm so _tired_ of canon fighting and stuff, and the highlight of the Hokage's whole speech-thing is… well, Gaara's interrupted. -snickers- So, I can't wait 'til we get past Gaara's battle with Naruto, when I can have some _fun_...

Anyway… there will be a slight delay again, because I want to write two chapters between this and the next. I got the idea from Liz, and that way, if I have writer's block again, I have something to post in between. Plus, I just want to say "I can't post because I have writer's block seventeen chapters from now." (XD I'm kidding.)

-o-

"Congratulations to you all on passing the second exam!"

While _well done_s were declared, I gazed around at the other genin that stood beside me. Besides the obvious Gaara and family, and the afore-mentioned Isane and crew, Kiba's team stood defiantly—but wearily—among the group. I didn't recognize anyone else except Shihai, who was parked next to a dark-skinned boy and a pale-haired one.

Glancing over to the gathering of chûnin and jōnin, I spotted Chie-sensei leaning casually against the stone arm in the back of the group. She was smiling only slightly, but I could almost feel the pride emanating from her.

The muttering from the genin ceased as the proctor of the second exam handed us off to the Hokage. He thanked her and, with tired old eyes, began to lecture us on the "underlying purpose of the exam." I paid attention, in case he said anything important, but my focus was on the fact that there was only one squad between mine and Gaara's. Nervously, I slipped around Eiri and pushed him forward a step so that both my teammates were in front of me.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey," Eiri protested in a whisper. Luckily, even he didn't dare interrupt the Hokage, so no one noticed.

I continued to devote only half my brain to the Hokage… until I heard the words "war-in-miniature." _That_ got my attention.

_You have no idea…_

"…Young shinobi may fight… to the death, if need be."

He went on to talk about being hired as shinobi, which didn't mean much to me. After all, I was only here for Gaara. "Desperate life-and-death battle" only had impact on me if applied to the fact that I wanted to live until about fifty (or more) years in the future, when Gaara killed me, so I wanted to live through these battles. Likewise, "your futures and your dreams" and "the dignity and prestige of your home village" had little significance. I was wading deep into the murky waters of boredom until Gaara cut in.

"Whatever… Could you wrap up the philosophical talk and get down to the life-and-death stuff any time soon?"

The Hokage looked annoyed at the interruption. "Hmph! So, you insist I explain the third exam."

"Yes, that would be nice," I muttered, mentally cackling at Gaara's remark. Eiri poked me with a senbon, and I shut up.

"Well… the truth is…" the Hokage went on, until a sickly, zombie-ish shinobi came forward and requested takeover. Sighing, the Hokage ceded, and the shinobi—Gekko Hayate, as he introduced himself—explained the need for a preliminary exam.

Great. More fighting.

There was some brief excitement as a silvery-blue-haired genin took the opportunity to give up, evening our numbers; Hayate informed us that we fought now as individuals, and it was time to begin.

We filed complacently up to the gallery; I made a beeline for Chie-sensei. She congratulated me on making it this far, then noted shrewdly, "You're walking funny."

I blinked at her. "Ehh… I got into a fight, as would be expected in a forest full of genin all wanting the same thing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Please elaborate."

"Well, you know how I've never been that good with taijutsu. This guy was. Broke a rib and my arm. Another of the genin healed it for me, but… she's only a medic-_in-training_."

"And why would an opponent help you?"

That was a good question. "I dunno, I didn't think about it. Maybe Abura-kun intimidated her into it."

Chie-sensei looked steadily into my eyes for a moment, then inquired, "And if I told your story to Abura-kun and Eiri-kun, what would they say?"

Gulp. "You see, I didn't actually tell them what happened. We were separated at the time."

"Shinobi need to communicate with their squad members at all times."

"I didn't think that we needed more teasing distracting us from the mission."

There was a brief pause. Then—

"It was Gaara, wasn't it?"

"Eh—what—?" I sputtered convincingly. "Weren't you listening to—"

"You're a liar, Takara-chan," she interrupted harshly, "and no one can trust you because of it."

I gaped at her, totally disarmed, as she went on, "And I need you to understand that there are people like me who will always see through your lies. Abura and Eiri—they can't, yet. But I'm going to start teaching them, because it is essential that they do."

"Uh—I—yes,Sensei," I said meekly as she turned away to go greet my teammates.

"But you're getting better, she added unexpectedly. "The dashes of truth are a nice touch."

-o-

The first match—the famous Uchiha Sasuke and some unknown dude named Akado Yoroi—went by in a brief blaze of intensity, during which Yoroi got… well, owned. The second match was intensely _creepy_, but infinitely fascinating as I watched Shino blow suspecting guy's arms off. I mean, I didn't know much about Shino, but I would have known better than to underestimate him just because he looked like a "loser," as Zaku Abumi put it. Kankuro's match didn't teach me anything I didn't already know about him—i.e., puppets are his specialty—and at last, a name that really meant something to me came up on the screen.

_Ayatsuru Shihai vs. Kuraho Abura_

Abura looked extraordinarily pleased; he smirked gleefully as he leapt over the railing with satisfaction instead of using the stairs like a normal person. However, a moment later, he looked like someone had doused him with a bucket of water as Shihai raised her hand in the air and inquired, "Can I withdraw now?"

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?" Eiri demanded of thin air.

Puzzled but complacent, the proctors took note, and Abura plodded up the stairs, crestfallen. As the next match began, I made my way along the upper gallery toward Shihai. Keeping an eye on the battle of words—or whatever—between Yamanako Ino and Haruno Sakura—after all, I needed all the information I could get, in case I was assigned to fight these people—I stopped in front of the medic and queried, "Why did you quit?"

"Cheh," she said cheerily, shocking me so much that I looked around for Abura. "I'm a _medic_, not a fighter. I mean, my taijutsu's good, it has to be, 'cause I'm a medic-nin, but I saw Abura-kun's fire, and I don't think I could handle that. It was quite extensive, and I don't feel any particular desire to be burned to a crisp.

I blinked at her. "You're not stalking Abura-kun, are you?" I inquired apprehensively.

Bewilderment spread across her face. "What? No! I just happened to be around when those leeches fell on you, and Abura-kun torched them all."

Breathing a sigh of relief—we didn't need another stalker around here—I informed her, "He's crushed. He wanted to fight."

Shihai grinned. "Tell him I'd be happy to fight him later, when there's less at stake."

"I'm not sure that'll cheer him up," I warned, smiling. "But I'll tell him."

-o-

A/N: Fight scenes next chapter!! Exciting!

Yeah.

By the way, here's more amazing fanart done by Liz!

element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Obsession-team-cloud-79574769


	16. A Dance

A/N: Oh yeah, if I ever promise anyone anything "in the next chapter," take that to mean "three or four chapters in the future," unless I've got it _written_. See, I often underestimate my chapter length, so even if I _want_ it in the next chapter, don't be offended if it isn't…

-o-

Temari's fight actually would have held my interest, except for the fact that it didn't last more than about half a second. The next battle was between Kin Tsuchi and Nara Shikamaru.

Eiri elbowed me gleefully. "That's a Naaaaaraaaaaa."

"Yes, I got that, thanks," I muttered, poking him irritably.

Tsuchi didn't seem like much, but the Nara was fascinating. I watched as he manipulated the Sound girl—and then controlled her with his shadows.

I nudged Abura. "Hey, do you think he'd teach me to do that?"

"Cheh."

There were two more matches, during which I saw Kiba humiliated—an act that made me want to beat up Uzumaki Naruto; I didn't know Kiba too well, but I did know that he didn't deserve that—and I learned more about the Hyugas. Namely, that I didn't like Neji, and Hinata was a lot braver than she appeared.

Then the next name came up on the screen—and it was Eiri's. Right below Mizu Isane's.

"Ehhhhh," he said, paling, then whispered, "I think it's my turn to quuuiiiiiiiiiit."

I looked at him rather oddly. "Aw, come on, Eiri-kun. You've faced her before—now you know what you're up against." I gave him a little shove; he practically somersaulted over the edge, but managed to cling to it.

"Eiri-kun, why the heck are you so scared?" I demanded. Isane was perched on the railing across the room, ready to leap down.

"She's creeeeepy," he wailed. I rolled my eyes.

"Get down, or else I really will push you."

"Takara-chaaaaaaaan!"

My eyes narrowed. "Go."

Looking woeful, he slipped mournfully under the wooden bar and dropped to the ground. Isane, seeing Eiri hit the floor, bounded down, landing in a half-kneeling position, one hand down. Her fingers seemed to linger on the wood as she rose to her feet and strode cheerfully toward the apprehensive weapons master.

"Come on, Eiri-kun, show 'em what you got!" I shouted, cupping my hands over my mouth. "You've enough weapons to beat an army singlehandedly; don't let one genin bring you down!"

"Cheh, what she said," Abura called encouragingly. I poked him.

But Eiri looked marginally more cheerful, and I congratulated myself on a win. He armed himself by filling his hands with shuriken drawn from an unknown source and waited for the match to start.

"Begin!"

Eiri took a step toward Isane and the wood splintered beneath him, catching his foot and holding him fast. I peered at it, puzzled—I didn't think the floor was _hollow_, and if this place was built for fighting, why couldn't it hold little Eiri's weight?

A moment later, it didn't matter, because Eiri had kicked free and launched himself toward Isane, flinging several shuriken as he did so. The Kumo-nin hesitated, getting her time right, then flipped backwards so the metal stars whipped over her. Ropes burst from the floor, snaking around Eiri's legs; he cut deftly through it was a kunai, hurling senbon at his opponent all the while. Isane managed to dodge most of them, but one slid along her cheek, reopening the wound from the last time they'd met.

Instead of getting angry, she smiled.

Suddenly, Eiri was suspended in midair by fiery ropes of brilliant blue chakra that sprung from Isane's hands. Eiri pulled a jouhyou from his endless supply of weapons and tossed it; it wrapped around Isane's wrist, but she rid of herself of it with a quick twist and the jerk of a kunai. However, it provided sufficient distraction for her to lose control of her ropes; Eiri dropped a few inches to the ground, only to land with his foot in another loop of chakra rope. The weapons master twisted around, the kunai in his hand glowing a fizzly blue as her brought it down on his bindings.

And that was when I saw Eiri get angry.

Well, no, it wasn't really anger. He was the same, wide-eyed, annoying Eiri, but there was a spark in those blue eyes.

He was ready to start enjoying himself.

As he was rising to his feet, Isane skipped in close, slashing with her kunai. Eiri couldn't get back in time, and the blade sliced through his shirt, leaving a gaping hole.

There was a jarring, jangling sound and a lifetime's supply of shinobi weaponry came pouring out of Eiri's shirt and crashing to the floor.

I couldn't help it: I burst out laughing. Within seconds, I was doubled over, choking on my own giggles.

"I wasn't aware that Eiri-kun carried quite so many weapons," I gasped, trying to regain control of myself.

"Cheh, you should have guessed," Abura replied, but he was half laughing, too.

Down below, the fight had turned into an intense, deadly dance. Both were bleeding, but both were laughing as rope and kunai collided time and time again. At last, Isane's chakra bindings snaked their way up Eiri's body and around his arms, holding him fast. She sauntered up to the weapons master and pressed a kunai lighting against his throat.

"I win."

He struggled violently, eyeing the blade, and then his fingers drew a needle seemingly from nowhere. Reinforced with his chakra, it severed the bindings as if they were water. Flipping backwards, he came up again just in time to catch the kunai flung straight at his face—and just in time to whip it back toward Isane. She danced around the projectile and skipped back toward Eiri as yet more chakra rope grew from the floor—it was going to need repairs—and grabbed Eiri's ankles. He sprawled flat out on his stomach, and Isane strolled over and plopped herself down on his back.

"_Now_ I win."

Eiri struggled, twisted, thrashed, but couldn't get free. Hayate waited, but didn't call the match. Isane grinned, and didn't move.

"Give up, Eiri-kun," she sang. "I don't want to hurt you."

When neither the weapons master nor the proctor ceded, more chakra-ropes sprouted from Isane's hands and coiled around Eiri until he was barely visible and totally immobile.

"What counts as 'unable to fight'?" she asked Hayate sweetly.

He hesitated. From inside the chakra-cocoon came—very, very faintly—"Forget it. She _wiiiiiiiiins_."

A moment later, as Mizu Isane was declared the winner, the chakra-made ropes vanished back into the Kumo genin's hands. Eiri trudged back up to us, trying to scowl, but grinning widely despite his loss. However, the next words out of his mouth were not at all what I expected:

"Good luuuuuuuuuuck, Takara-chaaaaaaaaan."

I stared at him, then slowly turned to look, blinking as if I were going blind. But no, my vision was as good as always.

And the next name on the screen was mine.

-o-

A/N:

DUN DUN DUN.

My first cliffie! (Not really. XD)

Short-ish chapter, but fun. :) I think, anyway.

Dedicated to Liz:D


	17. A Toxin

**IMPORTANT: This is a SPECIAL DEDICATION to Liz (Element Girls), whose auditions are tomorrow, as good luck in her endeavors. Of course, she won't need it (the luck, I mean), because she is Liz, and amazing in all things. She will pwn everyone's soul, get the best part in the play, become rich and famous, and find me living in her mansion one night without any previous knowledge on her part.**

**  
…Uh. Nevermind. Back to your regularly scheduled program. **

A/N: Hehehe… this was really fun. Seriously.

I'm going to post every two chapters, now, so I have a backup store. Just so you know, that's why the chapters have more time in between. I write two, post one.

-o-

_Akashi Takara vs. Inuka Onaji_

I realized, totally irrelevantly, that there were now at least five people who knew I'd given them a fake name. Oh well, I'd deal with that later—if I survived. Not that I expected to die or anything.

I saw one of Isane's wolfish teammates bounding down the stairs on all fours, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. In something of a daze, I followed—although I managed to do so on just two feet.

"Gooooooooooo, Takara-chaaaaaaan!" Eiri shouted from behind me. Well, actually, it was more like _right in my ear_, but close enough.

Onaji sat happily on the ground, gangly legs splayed and his hands on the wood between them. I surveyed the boy apprehensively, reflecting that at least he didn't look particularly strong. Imagine if I had ended up facing his bulky twin with the sword.

The proctor told us to begin, and before I could blink, Onaji had a fistful of my hair and was stuffing something mildly squishy in my mouth.

"You can be my new poison tester!" he crowed.

I choked. _Poison?!_

As he had failed to restrain my arms, I brought one fist up in an under-punch to his stomach. He was surprisingly thin, even scrawnier than he looked.

Coughing, the boy released his grip on my hair and stumbled back. I began spitting shreds of poisonous plant onto the floor.

"Hmm. I think your brother needs a new way to attack," could be heard faintly from the gallery.

"…I thought we'd broken him of that one," came the resigned reply.

It suddenly occurred to me that Gaara was watching, and I was both excited and terrified. I glanced over my shoulder at him, but he was staring disinterestedly into space.

Okay, not watching so much. But maybe if I put up a good fight—

There was a sharp, slicing pain as several senbon needles slipped by me, drawing blood on my face and arms. My mouth fell open slightly in shock, and I raised my hand to my face as the wound began to burn.

Poison. Of course.

In one quick motion, I pulled two shuriken from their holster and flung them at Onaji, deciding that I'd better end this fast, before that poison took me out. One of the metal stars flew wide, but the other spun toward its target.

Onaji ducked under it and darted closer; I chucked another shuriken to keep him back. I didn't want to swallow any more poison.

He jumped backwards, but not before his hand jerked slightly, casting something into the ground. I eyed it warily as it hit the wood, but a kunai flying toward me drew my gaze away. Distracted, I didn't see the small sphere bounce upward until it exploded in my face.

I coughed, choked, as my mouth and nose filled with bright green dust, and Onaji bounded a few steps closer again. Struggling to keep breathing, I raised a kunai in a weak defense, then took a step forward—

—and slipped in the plants I had spit all over the floor. Onaji giggled madly.

_This is getting _ridiculous, I thought irritably as I struggled back to my feet. I could feel my strength draining from every limb, and my vision was wavering.

This time, when Onaji skipped in close, I brought the tips of my fingers together and snared him in a genjutsu.

I watched as inky black chains slunk across the floor, twisting and writhing, and coiled around Onaji's body, binding his arms to his sides. No one else could see them, but I could feel the shadows creeping around him, pulling him down inside his mind. The boy looked terrified, his brown eyes wide—until the genjutsu snapped, releasing him from his pitch-black prison.

He sprung toward me, raining poisoned senbon on me. I could barely move, though I managed to shift the kunai in my hand enough to block several of the lethal needles before they sent more toxins coursing through my system. I now bled from tiny cuts all over my body, and my poor clothing was quickly shredding beneath the onslaught.

It took chakra, but it made me stronger; I sank into the shadows, covering myself with darkness. In the brightly lit room, he could still clearly see where I was, but I felt stronger. Forcing chakra into the blades, I threw the last of my kunai at Onaji's head; he dodged all but one, the last leaving a gash in his side. The fanged little boy bore down on me, never letting up with his hoard of toxic armaments. Slowly, I sank to my knees, dimly aware of the cheering coming from above.

Grinning crazily, Onaji stopped with his glowing-purple kunai held at my throat. I leaned back slightly, unsure of the glowy-purple nature of such a blade, and definitely unwilling to have it touch my skin.

I'm pretty sure that Hayate was just about to call the match. I couldn't stand anymore, and Onaji was almost perfectly fine. However, the boy started to look a bit queasy; he backed up a bit, then puked all over the floor. Silently, I thanked the Demon God that Onaji'd had the courtesy to step back and _not_ throw up on me.

"Oh, man, is that purple puke?!" came from the gallery; I thought it was the Uzumaki. "What did that kid _eat!?"_

"He was testing his poisons on himself again!" someone—Isane—cried, enraged.

"I thought we'd broken him of that one, too," replied Onaji's twin glumly.

"Oh, that's it. I'm rooting for the other girl. Go, Kori-chan!"

_That's me_, I thought dizzily. _She still thinks my name is Kori?_ I was pretty darn sure that _I _was about to throw up now, but I couldn't do anything about it.

"Hey, you guys don't love me!" Onaji wailed, looking even worse than I felt. His face was twisted in pain, and it appeared to be turning slightly purple. I kind of hoped that wasn't going to happen to me.

"That's right."

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"You… sound like… Eiri-kun," I gasped, clutching my stomach.

"Wah? Oh." Onaji turned to look at me, eyes blank and giddy. "You're still here? Didn't I beat you already? Why are you still here?"

"Uh…"

"Come on, Kori-chan! Get up and give him a thrashing!"

"I kind of… don't feel so good…" I muttered.

Abruptly, Onaji puked again, and looked faint. Laboriously, I climbed to my feet and stumbled toward him, kunai held in limp fingers. I think he passed out right before I got there and clubbed him over the head, one hand clutching my stomach.

Then I turned around and threw up all over the floor. Remembering that he'd not puked on me, I paid him the same courtesy.

There was a brief silence, then Hayate said hesitantly, "Akashi Takara is the winner."

-o-

After they'd cleaned up the floor, there were a few more matches that finished up the fights between all but four of the genin. (Onaji's brother, Inuka Hitotsu, won his, and his team appeared to attempt to engage him in some sort of crazy victory dance, which he refused to join.) I missed most of them, as I was undergoing the attention of some medic-nin—as was Onaji—but I got back in time for Hitotsu's—and the most important one of all.

Because the next name the computer spat out was my Demon God's.

Gaara.

-o-

A/N: OH NOEZ! GAARA'S NEXT!

Yeah.

I love Onaji.

Oh, and a big thank you to window-into-the-past, because I wasn't _entirely_ sure just how a poison master would fight. And a ton, a TON, a _**TON**_ of thanks to Liz, because half the ideas in this story came from chatting with her. Especially the "new poison tester," the "purple puke" from Naruto, the "you don't love me—that's right," and the "crazy victory dance." That last one, in fact, came from a little fic she wrote about her squad, which can be found in the artist's comments of her last drawing, which I posted a link to in chapter 15. :)

Eighteen (which is quite intense) will be up as soon as I write nineteen and twenty.

…Wow, that's quite an endeavor. The suspense is killing me. I want to know what you guys think!! TTTT


	18. A Truth

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to post; it wasn't that I had writer's block or anything, but I was writing Chapter Twenty. Which, being TWENTY, is really long. Well, relatively speaking. So, enjoy 18, which _I _had fun with. :D

-o-

In my weakened state, I almost fell from the gallery as I leapt to my feet. Gaara had, in a brief storm of sand, just teleported to the center of the arena before his name had even been announced. A moment later, the screen read, _Gaara vs. Rock Lee._

"He's psychic," I breathed. Abura kicked me, nearly knocking me over the edge again.

"Facing you so soon makes me very happy!" declared Gaara's opponent.

"Then you're stupid," I whispered, glaring at the green-clad Rock Lee. I was still a bit loopy from the effects of Onaji's combined poisons, and it was possibly affecting my judgment. "You're stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuupid, you're gonna diiiiiiiiiiie."

"Shut _up_," Abura hissed, though I wasn't speaking loud enough for anyone else to hear me. Chewing idly on a senbon, Eiri poked me in the ribs—again.

"But he's gonna diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie," I protested. "Serves him riiiiiiiiiiight, he thinks he can beat Gaaaaaaaaaaara-saaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaaaa."

"Cheh, just—quiet!" Abura snapped. "Let him be a fool, but be _quiet_."

"But Abuuuuuuuuura-chaaa—I mean –_kuuuuuuuuuun,_ I don't waaaaaaaaaaant to." I cackled madly at my 'mistake,' but my eyes were locked on Gaara. Below us, Rock Lee's hand jerked to the side, catching the cork from Gaara's gourd.

"Oooooooooooh, he's faaaaaaaaaaaast, but not fast enooooooooooooough," I giggled, as Lee requested, "Please, don't rush things."

"She's gonna be as creeeeepy as that Isane girl," Eiri whispered to Abura, eyeing me warily.

Smirking, Hayate declared, "All right, then. Let the battle begin!"

With only a moment's hesitation, Lee was speeding towards Gaara, a 'Konoha Hurricane' on his lips and in his limbs. However, sand sprung up from the ground, swirling around the red-haired shinobi in an impenetrable storm. I could see the shock on Lee's face, and hear cries of bewilderment and disbelief from around me, as the golden grit flared outward, sending Gaara's opponent crashing across the floor. Recovering, the green-clad shinobi darted in again, and around, and back and forth, at speeds almost invisible to the naked eye, but his attacks were repeatedly thwarted.

Gaara never moved a muscle.

"Ahahahahahaha, he's not so glad to fight noooooooooooooow," I crowed, clapping drunkenly. Abura grabbed my hands in an effort to restrain me.

"Cheh, do you _want _to get us killed?"

"But, Abura-cha-kuuuuuuuuuuun, I loooooooooooooooooove Gaara-samaaaaaaaaaaaaa." I blinked dazedly up at him, and then realized what I'd said.

Both my teammates were staring at me in complete shock, which was somewhat irksome, as they'd both professed my love for him before. Of course, I was pretty much on drugs—not, you know, literally, but who knew what sort of poisons Onaji was using—and nothing I said could be taken as the truth.

In my opinion, anyway. I didn't think either of my teammates would ever let me live it down.

"Aaahhhhhhhhhhhh, noooooooooooo, I didn't mean thaaaaaaaaaaaaat!" I cried, struggling to get ahold of myself. It wasn't working too well. "I'm craaaaaaaaaazy, I'm looooooooooooopy, insaaaaaaaaaane, don't listen to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Absurdly, Abura began to laugh.

"Cheh, you can't lie under the effects of poison," he deduced with absolutely no proof whatsoever.

"Now we know the truuuuuuuuuuuuuth," Eiri sang, sounding like me. Or was I sounding like him? My head hurt. I really wished I could have been poisoned _after_ Gaara's match, so I could really pay attention.

There was an enormous crash, and I jumped, looking up to see two massive clouds of smoke rising from the ground. Rock Lee was standing on the giant stone fingers, holding his arms out as if he had just dropped something heavy.

"He looks like he's gonna flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy," I sing-songed.

A moment later, Lee _moved,_ and it was almost like a teleport. He was suddenly in front of Gaara, behind Gaara, in front of Gaara, above Gaara—

And then he came down on Gaara's head.

I screamed as if _I _had been hit and leapt back to my feet. I practically threw myself over the edge, and would have been racing towards Gaara if Abura and Eiri hadn't both grabbed my arms. Seconds later, Chie-sensei appeared from wherever she had been and latched onto my shoulders, restraining me.

"He hit Gaara, he hit Gaara, he hurt Gaara," I sobbed, struggling futilely for freedom.

"Cheh, it's a _battle,_" Abura stressed, glaring at me. "People get hurt!"

"But no one can hurt Gaara-sama!" I cried, tugging.

Chie-sensei threw Abura a look that said _not helping_, and the pyro didn't reply.

Impossibly, intolerably, it happened again—and again and again and again. Rock Lee moved at a ridiculous speed, and Gaara's sand could not rise fast enough to protect him on all sides. I yanked harder and harder at my restraining teammates; Chie-sensei threatened to let Eiri tie me up again if I didn't stop. I knew she wouldn't, though, because I would get free of that.

Slowly, agonizingly, Gaara rose back to his feet. Grains of sand dripped from his face like gritty tears, and he raised his face to his opponent.

A twisted, mad expression warped his features as his sand shell broke, revealing his true face to the crowd. Abruptly, I stopped crying, watching as his skin appeared without wounds.

"He's okay," I said wonderingly, then mentally shot myself for not believing in him.

Sand slithered across Gaara's body, replacing his sand armor and the expression of icy calm that normally adorned his face. "Is that all?" he demanded slowly, straightening.

Lee looked panicked, then smiled in determination and glanced up at his sensei. A moment later, he began unwinding bandages from around his arms.

Moving at ever more impossible speeds, Rock Lee kicked Gaara upward—repeatedly—and I cried out again, even though I knew he was shielded. At last, he began coiling the dirty white cloth around Gaara's body, binding him tightly.

And then he sped toward the ground.

I leaned forward in my squad's grasp, the intensity of the battle sweeping me up. At the last moment, Lee bounced away from Gaara, sending the red-haired shinobi hurtling into the ground.

There was a moment when we all thought Lee had won. Sounds of disappointment, shock, fear—and one of joy—echoed around the room as Gaara's face caved in, revealing only an empty shell.

Cackling madly, the Demon God rose up behind Rock Lee, vengeance, death , and bloody ecstasy the only things on his mind.

Crouching down, eye twitching crazily, Gaara blasted his opponent with a wave of lethal gold. Too tired to duck, Lee crashed into the wall, shattering it, and watched wearily, helplessly, as he was attacked again and again.

In a brilliant display of determination, Lee rose once more to his feet. Crossing his arms in front of his face, he released a move I'd never seen before—but judging by the color of his skin, it was extraordinarily powerful—and deadly to both the user and the opponent.

They were both gonna die.

"_Gaara!_" I screamed, forgetting my oath that he would never see me. It didn't matter, though, because he didn't even glance in my direction. He was too absorbed in the intensity of the match.

The red-haired shinobi was flung thoughtlessly into the air, agony and shock distorting his features. He was thrown across the room, back and forth, back and forth, relentlessly beaten by the onslaught of Lee's blows. I was suddenly aware that I was whimpering weakly, and squeaking with each hit.

The final blow came when Lee leapt into the air above Gaara, then hurled himself down into the red-haired boy's stomach.

Gaara slammed into the ground, his gourd shattering into a million grains of sand and rising up to protect him. No longer able to move, Lee could not stop the lethal gold from blanketing his arm and his leg and holding him fast.

_SABAKUKYÛ! THE COFFIN OF CRUSHING SAND! _

With a sharp cracking sound, Lee's limbs splintered into a thousand pieces, crippling him. He fell, crying out, leaving Gaara breathing heavily on the ground. His sand moved in to attack once more, but the assault was interrupted as Lee's sensei appeared in the midst of the battle.

Shock flitted across Gaara's face, then pain consumed it, as he clenched his head in anguish. "Why are you… helping him?" he demanded in a cold whisper.

The jōnin paused, then looked up. "He's my lovable, precious protégé!"

And I knew Gaara would never have any idea what that meant.

"Forget it," he muttered as he struggled to his feet and was declared the victor. It seemed not to matter to him, even as Lee—impossibly—returned to his feet, ready to begin again.

"He's an idiot," I whispered, a few tears trailing down my face.

Emotionless, Gaara stood, looking on as the medics came and took Rock Lee away. In a swirl of sand, he returned to his family, his family that was not his family, confusion and pain warring on his features.

"Welcome back, Gaara," Temari greeted, without any real warmth at all.


	19. Interlude: Allegiance

A/N: I felt like writing something angst-y, which this story is not, so I started a series of (_**really**_) short interludes to satisfy my craving. They're set in Takara's point-of-view, and have nothing to do with the story, really, so if you don't feel like reading angst, you don't have to read them. They'll be posted sporadically.

(And I do have the next 2.5 chapters written, I'm just not posting any until I've finished that last half a chapter.)

-o-

_Just what do you think I'm in this for? Power, fame? Wealth, glory,__** love?**_

_You're wrong._

_Whatever it is, you're _wrong_. I didn't become a shinobi to save the people, and I didn't do it to save _you.

_I did it for him._

_For_** Him**_, do you hear me?_

_I don't care about completing the mission—that's not why I'm here. I'm only on it because of him, and that's the only reason I'll aid in its completion._

_But listen to me. _I. Am. Not. Doing. This. For. **You**.

_I owe my allegiance to _**no one**_. Not my mother. Not Eiri or Abura or Chie-sensei. Not Kiba, Shino, Hinata, Shikamaru, or any of them. Not Isane and her squad or Shihai and hers. Not my dead father or the dead Kazekage—I never liked him anyway._

_But that's not my point. My point is, I don't owe _you _anything, and I owe _them_ even less. I don't answer to anyone—no boy, no girl, no teacher or student or friend—on this earth. _No one

_**Except**__** Him.**_

_You think you get me, don't you? You think you've finally figured out who I am. I'm a liar, and I'm a spy. I never stop hiding, and no one can trust me._

_But_ he_ can._

_Gaara can._


	20. A Reminder

A/N: Yeah, little bit of a boring chapter, sorry…

But today begins Script Frenzy! :D And the chapters will be closer together than expected, thanks to Liz. :D Schedule is at the end of this chapter. :)

By the way, it recently came to my attention that all my paragraph markers were being lost in translation, so I took the time to go back and add them in to every previous chapter. Some of them might make more sense now. XD

Sorry for the delay! Enjoy. :)

-o-

There was only one match after Gaara's, and it was a battle so anticlimactic that it's barely worth mentioning. Then us winners lined up in the center of the cracked and broken floor.

"To those of you who won your bouts and qualified for the finals of the third phase of the Chûnin Exams—although one of you isn't here—congratulations!"

"He seems t'be sayin' tha' a lot," I slurred. The previous effects of the poisons had apparently worn off, leaving me with weak knees, somewhat muffled speech, and a massive headache.

"I feel like I've been drunk," I informed Abura, whose shoulder I was leaning on for support. He looked irritated and ignored me; I figured I was lucky he hadn't dumped me on the floor already.

"And thus the finals will commence one month from now!"

"A month?" I repeated in shock and delight. _A bath!_ "That's great!"

"Shut up, Takara-chan," Abura muttered.

I glared at him. "Yer jus' irritated 'cause you didn' hafta fight. Leave me alone."

Looking quite happy to comply, he took a step away, sending me crashing to the floor. The other genin glanced around; I struggled to get back on my feet and edge behind me exasperating teammate before Gaara turned to see.

"Thanks a _lot_," I hissed in Abura's ear.

He shrugged. "Cheh. _You_ told me to."

"During this period, you can analyze the intelligence you have gathered on your foes during the preliminaries and use it to increase your chances of victory," the Hokage went on.

_My specialty_, I thought smugly, turning away from Abura. Actually, my specialty was stalking Gaara, but that was more likely to decrease my chances of victory, so I tried not to let that enter into it.

"I would like to let you all go now—"

_A bath!_

"—But first, there's one last thing we must do for the finals."

_Not yet._ My shoulders sagged.

"Now then, don't be so impatient," the Hokage ordered, mostly for the benefit of the loud-mouthed Uzumaki. "There are slips of paper inside the box Anko is holding… Each of you, take one."

"I'll come around, so line up, okay?"

We complied; I made sure to stand at the end of the line, as far from Gaara as I could manage to get. I unfolded my paper, glanced at my number, and then waited for them to tell me what to do with it.

"And now I will reveal," the Hokage thundered, "the match order for the tournament-style finals!"

I stared at the slip of paper that Ibiki was holding out—and my name written right next to Mizu Isane's.

-o-

"I tell you, she's freakin' _ubiquitous_," I hissed to Abura as we left the tower for our one-month break. "First Eiri-kun, now me… She'll be after you next, Abura-kun."

"Cheh, she's got no reason to be 'after' me," he smirked.

"Nor me!" I protested, grinning. "She's just crazy."

Speak of the Devil: Isane came walking up behind us.

"Kori-chan! This is gonna be fun!"

I blinked at her. "My name is Takara," I pointed out foolishly. Luckily, she didn't seem to hear.

"Introductions all around!" Isane squealed, despite the fact that we all knew each other's names. "I'm Mizu Isane, of course. Onaji you'll remember from your fight; he's like our mad evil genius without the genius."

"Hey! You guys don't love me," the scrawny little wolf-boy pouted.

"That's right!"

"Awwwwwww."

"Is it just meeee, or do they not liiiiiiiiiiike their teammate very muuuuch?" asked Eiri, coming up behind us.

I grinned at him. "I think they _do _love their teammate very much. They love making fun of him."

"And this is Onaji's brother, Inuka Hitotsu. He talks a lot," Isane finished, pointing to the tall, muscled, absolutely silent, wolf-like boy. I stared at her.

There was a brief silence while Isane looked at me expectantly. I gawked back at her, then said haltingly, "Urusai Eiri, Kuraho Abura, and—" Oh, Sand, what was I going to say for _my_ name?

"Hey, Takara!" someone called. Guiltily, I jumped, and turned to see Kiba's squad—sans Hinata, who was probably still under the care of the medical corps—strolling toward us. "How come you gave us a fake name?"

"I told you," said Shino quietly. "She is smart like a bug, and knows not to give too much away."

"I'm smart… like a bug?" I repeated, then blinked. "Uh, I didn't—well, not really. I put a fake name on my application."

"She's not the trusting sort," Abura offered helpfully.

"Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah," Eiri added inanely.

"I'm—" _Shoot, who am I? "—_Tsugawa Aru."

"Your name's not Kori?" Isane asked blankly.

"No," I admitted sheepishly. "But it is Tsugawa, if that helps at all." _And if I run into Shihai again, I've got the right name. I think._

Isane blinked at me, then grinned widely and started talking about something else.

-o-

"I'm cleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeean," I sang, dancing into the room that served as a kitchen with my hair sopping wet. Abura was sitting in one of the straight-backed wooden chairs, arms crossed, looking irritated.

"Cheh, nice of you to finally relinquish the shower. Bet there's no hot water left."

"Eh, why should you care?" I demanded, grinning wildly.

"_Cheh_. Just because I'm male doesn't mean I don't want to be _clean_. It's been over five days."

"Trust me, I know," I moaned, slumping into a chair. Quickly-cooling water trailed down my spine, soaking the black cloth of my shirt, blessedly chill.

"Can Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii go next?" Eiri asked, idly carving his name into the table with a kunai.

Suddenly, there was a mad rush for the shower. Laughing, I depositing my towel over the back of the chair and left the place we were temporarily calling home.

-o-

Night had drifted over the village; the light of the full moon cascaded to the ground like a waterfall from the sky. Habitually, I stayed out of it.

A lonely profile silhouetted against the moon caught my eye, and I knew at once that it was Gaara. Immediately, I shrank against the side of a building and gazed up at him. A moment later, I knew that I had to get closer.

And I could not be seen.

Shimmying up a drainpipe, I slung an arm over the edge of the roof and pulled myself up. One of the shingles rattled, and I froze, chakra bleeding into the shadows until I darkened to match the night. Gaara's head turned slightly, but he remained in his slumped and disinterested pose as I slipped across the wooden-slatted roofs of Konoha toward him. I had just settled into place in the shadows of the giant stone fish when someone else drew Gaara's attention.

"I give up… Do you never sleep?"

Gaara's eyes shifted to the Sound shinobi who dared interrupt the silence. "What do you want?" he demanded icily.

"I was planning to attack you while you slept," he explained, "but I guess I'll just have to fight you like this, so I can increase my chances of getting to fight Sasuke in the Chûnin Exam… since I'm the only Sound ninja left."

The red-haired shinobi was silent, so Dosu went on, "I've seen and analyzed your sand attacks… Let's see which one's quicker, your sand or my sound."

Disinterestedly, Gaara's gaze slid back up to the sky. "When the full moon is out… **its **blood stirs up…" he murmured.

Puzzled, then terrified, Dosu demanded, "Wh... What the…? What on earth _are_ you…?!" Fear filled his eyes, drowning him in it, as the demon rose up and slaughtered the Sound-nin in the night.

Blood spattered everywhere, leaving the roof in shreds, as if a giant claw had raked across it. Breathing heavily, the Demon God subsided, sinking back into a seated position as I crept away as quickly as I could while still being silent and unseen. I may have loved Gaara at that point, but I had no desire to stick around when bloodlust ruled his soul—more than usual, I mean—and death was all that was on his mind.

"…victim was one of your Sound ninja…" I heard as I collapsed wearily against the wall of a building. I was far enough away to be safe from Gaara's sand, but I could still see him, just barely, from where I was.

However, I hadn't been expecting the voices, and jumped in shock as they discussed the fallen Sound shinobi and the boy called Uchiha Sasuke. One of them was Baki, I realized, and the other was the silvery-blue-haired genin who'd quit before the prelims.

"You Sound ninja are the ones who proposed this scheme to us in the first place… but if you all continue with these blunders, we'll be forced to withdraw our support," Baki informed the genin—Kabuto—and that was when it hit me.

They were discussing our mission.

I'd completely forgotten about it. It had gotten to the point where I was here for the Chûnin Exams and for Gaara, nothing else. But I wasn't. I was here to be cannon fodder for a Kazekage who thought children were his best weapons.

"This is the blueprint for all our plans," said Kabuto, handing a scroll over to Baki. "So… pass the information along soon to your subordinates… Please."

"Sure," Baki agreed, as Kabuto began to walk away, professing that he was done there.

"Oh… and one more thing…" he added, eyes narrowing. "I'll take care of the cleanup… I'll find out who's on our trail and take care of him."

For a moment, I panicked, thinking they meant me. But Baki said that _he_ would do it, countering with, "One little mouse is no big deal," and a jōnin I recognized as Gekko Hayate, proctor of the third stage of the Exams, appeared to face his death.

I left just a little bit shaken, a tiny splatter of blood invisibly staining my black clothing, as I silently slipped away 'home.'

-o-

A/N: So, guys, this is what I want to know from YOU, my faithful readers, whom I love with all my heart. XD I want this story to continue on through Gaara-as-Kazekage, and I would like to keep it as ONE story, but you are my readers, and I must do what you say. Thus, do you want me to end this at some point, and make Takara the (Still) Stalker and Gaara-as-Kazekage a sequel? I'm wary of sequels, but if you'd be more willing to read it… Let me know, k? Thanks!!

-Kit

**Schedule for April**

April 1st: Chapter 19

April 7th: Chapter 20

April 13th: Chapter 21

April 19th: Chapter 22

April 25th: Chapter 23

April 30th: Interlude 2

If you wake up the day after any of these and don't see the chapter, please feel free to send me an irate PM; I'll still be checking my email. :D

Happy April Fools Day! If I were cruel (or not lazy), I would make some joke about quitting Obsession, but I won't. XD


	21. A Return

A/N: CHAPTER TWENTY!! WOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

And I gotta say… Thanks so much to xXxjustbecausexXx!! I thought that I didn't have to post until tomorrow, but she sent me an irate PM, like I said, and here it is. Thank her. :D  
-o-

"We're going back to Suna," Chie-sensei informed us a few days later. "_All_ of us," she added, looking at me, letting me know that Gaara was going, too. In fact, it was probably for the mission that I had recently been reminded of.

"We're going hoooooooooooome!" Eiri cheered.

"For how long?" Abura asked quickly.

"Just a few days. Three at the outside."

"Why?" I asked quietly.

"Because we have time."

-o-

The trip over was uneventful. We arrived at the gates of our home under the frigid blanket of night and lingered just inside the village for a moment as Chie-sensei explained the plan for this visit.

"I'm going to see my mother," I said when she was done talking, and she nodded her permission.

Expecting to find a party in full-swing, I was shocked—and a little worried—to see the house standing dark and desolate. Letting myself in, I flipped on a light; there was a flurry of activity that I recognized as the rustling of my mother's skirts as she stood.

"Mom?" I asked softly without turning around. I think I was almost afraid to see her.

"Takara?" I heard her take a step toward me.

"I thought maybe you were at someone else's party, since this place is empty," I prodded gently.

Her voice trembled slightly. "I haven't hosted a party since a few days after you left."

Shocked, I spun around. Her eyes were haunted, her makeup smeared; the social butterfly had become a ghostly moth of seclusion. "But, Mom, I've been gone for over two weeks," I blurted.

"I know. Takara, I heard you went with Gaara. Your squad, I mean." She sank haphazardly back into her chair.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mother, they'd never send us _with_ him. We'd never make it to Konoha alive. We were always a day behind him as we traveled, and only their sensei actually knew we were there. I haven't gone near him."

She leaned her head back, looking exhausted, and whispered, "I've heard…"

I stepped closer to her and said lightly, not letting a trace of my fear at those words show through, "I always told you not to gossip so much, Mom." In an attempt to hold up the illusion, I flashed her a wavering smile.

There was a pause, silent but for my mother's labored breathing. Then she murmured, "The anniversary of your father's death is coming up."

My heart sank. Of course. And no, my _birthday_ wasn't coming up—the depressing event of the same day was so much more important.

"Yes, it is," I offered weakly, frozen where I stood. "A couple more weeks and—" But I was interrupted by the sudden, muffled sobs that were wracking my mother's slender frame. Turning on my heel, I fled the house, running to who-knows-where.

Chie-sensei opened her door on my second knock.

"She's not holding a party," I said desperately.

But she just stood there, looking back at me, with nothing to say.

-o-

I returned to my house in the morning, and my mother greeted me as if the previous night hadn't happened. Briefly, I wondered if she'd been drunk, but avoided asking any questions that would give me that answer.

"Takara-chan! You're home! When did that happen?"

"Early this morning," I muttered gloomily.

"Well, it's great to see you!" she proclaimed, showing me where I'd gotten my dishonest streak, and launched into tales of gossip and social woe. Just as I'd managed to tune her out, she threw something else at me.

"I'm holding a party in celebration of your birthday next week. Will you still be around?"

"No," I mumbled, hating the way her eyes lit up at the answer. Oh, how devoted they'd think her, celebrating her daughter's birthday when the child wasn't even there. What a wonderful mother she must be.

I wondered if anyone else ever saw how hard my mother worked to look the way she did to them.

"The Exams aren't over yet," I explained glumly. "I'll only be here for three days. In fact," I added, before she could profess more false sorrow at my parting, "I need to go now. We have training scheduled. Bye, Mother."

I was out the door without waiting for a reply.

-o-

Truthfully, I _was_ supposed to go train with my squad, but not until the afternoon; Chie-sensei had charged us with working on our own in the morning.

Actually, she was probably with Eiri and Abura already, teaching them how to see through my lies. I could probably go find out where they were, find out what they were learning, find out how to get around it… But I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I thought about it, so I didn't.

Instead, I wandered aimlessly through the streets of my home, the gleaming desert sun beating down on me. I had no particular plan, until Baki's voice drifted through the heat to my ears.

And where there was Baki, there was usually Gaara.

"…join with Sound," he was saying as I immediately adjusted my trajectory to follow the voice. "…And this will probably end in war against Konoha. This is an A+ Ranked mission… Remember that."

That almost stopped me dead.

Not because I was shocked to hear of a war, but because this was _my_ mission, too, even if no one else believed that. I wasn't on it to be cannon fodder, like I'd been told; but A+ Ranked… I couldn't handle that.

Except… for Gaara, I would.

"A war?" Temari exploded. "Why? Why _now?! _We've spent so much time and sacrificed so much to arrive at this treaty of alliance… And now we're breaking it. So many will die again…"

_So many will die again…_ Honestly, that's when it hit me. For real. I was in this for Gaara and Gaara alone, but… I'd made friends in Konoha, hadn't I? Kiba and his squad… Maybe we weren't friends, but we could be. Shihai—she'd saved my _life_, really. My career as a shinobi…

Would they have to die?

And would I have to help?

Baki was explaining the military logistics of Suna. "…our village had no choice but to raise the quality of each shinobi." I was watching them now, through the shadows inside their supposedly secure room; Baki turned to look at Gaara and went on, "That is why shinobi like you were 'manufactured'… Gaara."

I saw him turn his eyes away as they narrowed slightly in pain at those words, but his answer did not betray that agony; he said nothing at all.

And I swear, if I had not already vowed to remain unseen by the Demon God, I would have burst into that room and killed Baki for that statement.

"Right now, the very existence of the Land of Wind is in peril. Lord Kazekage, who sensed the impending crisis of Sunagakure's military decline, decided to join forces with Otogakure to show our idiot Daimyo the naiveté of his policies… and, at the same time, to crush Konoha and restore the Sand Village to prosperity. If we wait any longer, all the military strength of Sand will be utterly drained, and our capability to fight Konoha totally lost."

Once again, the jōnin turned his gaze to the red-haired shinobi that leaned against the wall. "Gaara, this mission… its success depends heavily on you…"

There was silence for a moment, then Gaara's eyes hardened to a mask of determination.

"I know."

-o-

We returned to Konoha the promised three days later; the journey back was as uneventful as the journey home. Except for one thing.

The night before we entered Konoha, I stayed awake long after Eiri and Abura had slipped into dreams. Chie-sensei was on watch; she sat staring out into the trees, and if I hadn't known better, I would have taken her to be not paying attention.

Quietly, I stood beside her, likewise staring. A moment later, she said, "Yes?"

"Gaara left a day ahead of us, ne?"

"Yes."

"And he entered Konoha early this morning, ne?"

"Yes."

"And he's the biggest part of this mission that we are simply cannon fodder for, ne?"

"…Yes," she replied softly.

"So here's what I don't get. You are completely against me being anywhere near Gaara… And yet, you never refuse me information. In fact, you go out of your way to let me know where he is, where he's going." I hesitated. "Why?"

Chie-sensei said nothing.

After a moment, I said quietly, "If he were on my side, I would never die."

She turned her eyes from the forest to her hands, held loosely in her lap. "He would be a formidable ally, yes. Those he protected would be hard-pressed to find someone who could penetrate his defenses. But here's the thing, Takara-chan." Once again, she shifted her gaze, this time upward to look directly into mine.

"Gaara's not on anyone's side. Gaara… fights only for himself."

After that, she refused to say anything more, and I went to bed without an answer.

-o-

Immediately inside the gates of Konoha, we were accosted by none other than Ayatsuru Shihai. She responded to my greeting with a cheery wave, but her sights were set on Abura.

"Jeez," I muttered, grinning to myself, "I feel like I'm the only one without a stalker." Not that I thought Isane and Shihai were stalkers, but… Well, I hoped not.

"I figured now was a good time, what do you think? There's… less at stake. I know the perfect place.

Abura stared at her. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. "You're ready to fight," he stated, barely containing his excitement.

"Oooh, a battle," I cut in. "Mind if I come watch?"

"Cheh, _yes_."

I narrowed my eyes at his retreating back; as soon as the two were out of sight, I slipped into the shadows and followed, leaving Eiri and Chie-sensei behind.

-o-

The sign read, 'Practice Field 3,' and once inside, there were plenty of trees to hide in. I, however, did not use them; wanting a better view, I wrapped myself in darkness beside one of the three wooden posts that jutted out of the ground.

"Any rules?" Abura asked as they both settled into fighting stances.

"Go easy on me?"

Abura grinned. "Cheh, not a _chance_."

Shihai spun, jerking her wrist so that a lengthy bit of ninja wire flew toward Abura, glinting in the morning sun. The fire specialist caught it; its sharp edges drew blood, but he held on, sending fire coursing down its length. Shihai dropped her end, and the tail of flame split off from the wire, spiraling into the air. She flipped backwards, landing on a crouch as the fire swept over her head, then leapt forward, a kunai in her hand.

Abura dodged to the side as she threw it, but she had been aiming to miss. The blade thudded into the wood of the middle post, and Shihai leapt sideways, still holding one end of the wire. It connected with his arm and Shihai released it; chakra giving it life, the wire coiled around Abura, binding his limbs to his sides.

Smiling, the pyromaniac incinerated it with a snap of his fingers as Shihai closed in for the kill. Abura drew in a breath and spewed flames at the medic-nin, who dodged to the side, though she lost part of her shirt to the fire.

Rubbing her singed arm, Shihai backed away, then drew more ninja wire from her other sleeve. Animating it with her chakra, she directed it once again toward Abura. He prepared to torch it again, having never once moved from his spot; just as he released a burst of flame, the wire split into seven waving silver tendrils, as if they had been braided together.

Abura's fireball whipped right into the center of the wire, where all the strands met. However, instead of letting her wire be incinerated, Shihai forced more chakra into it, and the tendrils closed around the flames in a thin silver cage.

The wire convulsed, flailing the trapped fireball at its maker. Abura jumped back, moving for the first time, then snapped his fingers; a flicker of flame severed the caged blaze from the rest of the wire. The fallen fireball ignited the grass, which left Abura panicking. He and Shihai abandoned their battle and raced around the field, trying to quench the flames before they reached the forest. Achieving their goal, the pyro and the medic collapsed onto the singed ground, laughing their heads off.

Unnerved—I didn't usually see Abura laughing like that—but amused, I left them there, eternally grateful that the flames hadn't touched me, but the blackened ground they'd left behind was much easier to hide on.

-o-

I had absolutely nothing to do for the remainder of the month except follow Gaara and otherwise practice what I already knew how to do. Thus, it didn't take me long to decide that I needed something new.

And I quickly figured out what that something new was.

Not that I knew _where_ it was, which led to me wandering aimlessly about the streets of Konoha, searching for it. Several people pointed me in the right direction, but they apparently were either reluctant to be or incapable of being more specific. Maybe I was just asking the wrong people.

I spotted a brown-haired girl with a Konoha _hitai-ate_ around her neck. Her black shirt was oddly reminiscent of Temari's, and she wore baggy, grey-green pants.

"Tsugawa Aru," I lied warmly, walking up to her. "Can you tell me the way to the Nara compound?"

She blinked wide green eyesat me and gave me the most specific directions I'd gotten all day. Down to the last detail, I learned the path to my destination; she included such minute aspects as broken cobblestones in the road.

I thanked her heartily and turned to leave, still half-waving. Before I was out of earshot, I heard her call after me as if she had forgotten, "My name's Kyoto Unari!"

-o-

It was ridiculous how easily I found the Nara compound after three hours of searching. _One person_, it took; where had she been when I'd started my search?

But it didn't matter now, because I had arrived, and I couldn't change anything. There was someone at the gates, but she was cloud-watching and didn't notice me. Either that or she was asleep; regardless, I was ignored, and slipped easily inside with the shadows.

I had no particular destination in mind; 'find Shikamaru' was as far as I'd gotten. I simply wandered as aimlessly through the compound as I had through the village itself.

Until I found a kunai at my throat. "Naras are _born_ in the shadows; you can't hide from us there."

-o-

A/N: Another semi-not-really-cliffie!! XD

Kyoto Unari is a 'cameo'-type-thing of xXxjustbecausexXx, who got my 50th review. THANK YOU!! :D

Man, I hope this picks up again soon, it's getting boring to me… ;

Oh, and chapter twenty special! Translations for many of the character names!

Takara: treasure

Akashi: proof, evidence

Eiri na: sharp, keen; sharp-edged

Urusai: noisy

Abura: oil

Kuraho: black fire

Chie: wisdom, intelligence; sense; advice, counsel

Mizu: water

Onaji: same, identical, equal

Hitotsu: one, same, identical

Shihai: rule, control, direction

Ayatsuru: to handle; to control; to pull the wires, strings; to manipulate

-o-

And, even if you don't care, Script Frenzy is going great. :D I'm over a quarter of the way through my script! I promise that, if I finish early, I'll go back to  
writing Obsession. :D


	22. A Trouble

A/N: Yeah… My script is going well except for the fact that I have developed a temporary addiction to Bakura from Yu-Gi-Oh! and cannot stop drawing him. (Seriously. That's basically the only thing I did yesterday.) Other than that…

Oh yeah! I've now reached 100 reviews!! Thanks so much to _everybody_ who's ever reviewed… ever!! -mass glompage- Thank you!

Also, there was a note about a possible sequel earlier, and I've decided to keep _The Obsession_ as one big story. Only one person actually wanted a sequel; a few noted their desire for it to stay the same. However, most people told me that they would read it no matter what I did to it, and I have to say, thank you guys so, so, so much. All the reviews like that gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling. :D (The other ones did, too, just so you know. :D)

-o-

Despite the fact that my life was possibly at stake, a crazy grin was spreading across my face. I couldn't help myself. "Yeah, I definitely came to the right place." The feeling of elation welling up on my stomach couldn't be repressed either.

"Ugh, how troublesome," sighed whoever had the knife at my throat, sounding a good deal less hostile than he'd been when he caught me. "Why did you come here?" The question seemed more obligatory than truly interested.

"To find learning, of a sorts," I said innocently. "I need a teacher."

"Ugh what trouble that would be. What makes you think that the Naras would teach you their secrets?"

I sat back on my heels, letting my cloak of shadows slip off my shoulders. "I'm from Suna, right? But my clan is distantly related to the Naras. My…" I paused, as if counting in my head. "…great-great-great-or-something-like-that-grandmother married a Nara."

Another Nara strode up to stand beside my captor, who had dropped his blade from my throat and now stood in front of me. "What's the trouble?" asked the newcomer wearily.

My captor sighed. "Caught this girl sneaking around. Claims her ancestor married a Nara."

"We could check the records," suggested the newcomer. I hoped they wouldn't.

"Yes, but that's ever-so-troublesome."

"Then just send her away."

"But she wants a teacher," came the weary reply.

"For what?" He looked at me.

"I'm a shadow-user, too, " I explained. "It's in the blood, right. I saw Shikamaru-san at the Chûnin Exams and wondered if someone could teach me the Shadow Possession."

"But that's our family's," pointed out my captor, sighing once again.

"Can she prove she's a shadow-user?" inquired a woman as she walked up.

"What can you do?" someone else asked me.

"Ugh, how troublesome," sighed another.

"When can we return to our day?"

"I long for some peace."

"The clouds are so nice now…"

"We're missing them, being detained in this hallway."

"Sigh… how troublesome…" I heard again.

"Someone, please, take care of this trouble…"

There was soon a gathering of Naras, mostly complaining about how much work it was to stand around here, waiting for the mess—i.e., _me—_to be cleared up. It probably took more energy talking about it than it did just moving, but maybe they would rather stand around than actually do something.

I wondered if they were like this on missions and hoped I wouldn't ever have to find out. Just in case

they were.

"I agree with Kanau," someone piped up. "Make her show us what she can do."

They all turned to look at me. If I had been anywhere else, I would have shrunk back into the shadows.

"Well, I can hide, right," I began. "And I can sort of—see—using the shadows—like I can use their eyes…" I trailed away, not certain as to whether or not I was making progress—or sense.

"Prove it," someone suggested.

"How?"

"I'll go to that room over there," one woman volunteered with a weary sigh. "You can tell Akiru"—she pointed to my captor—"how many fingers I'm holding up, and I'll tell him, and we'll see." As soon as Akiru had agreed, the woman wove her way through the mass of Nara's lounging about the corridor in various states of sleep.

I bled more and more chakra into the shadows, becoming dangerously low, until I was one with the darkness, you might say. Slipping through the shadowy stream, I found the woman; distantly, someone said, "Ready," and she held up two fingers.

I relayed this information; there was a brief discussion, and we did it a few more times before I was tapped on the shoulder and declared done. Sliding out of the well of shadows, I looked up at Akiru from the floor.

"She _is _a shadow-user," pointed out further Naras in a detached sort of tone.

"But the Shadow Possession is the Nara family technique. We can't pass it along to a stranger from Suna."

"Sand and Leaf _are_ allies," someone else noted, and I felt a pang of sadness at those words that almost made me quit asking. Almost.

"I wouldn't teach anyone," I volunteered. "Ever. Only I would know."

"Careful," another Nara warned. "She's a notorious liar."

"I am _not_," I lied hotly. Well, actually, it _wasn't _a lie: As far as I knew, I wasn't notorious yet. "I wouldn't tell anyone."

"How _troublesome_," came again.

"Send her to Shikamaru," was the next suggestion.

"He's training for the Exams," another man pointed out.

"They say a teacher always learns more from his student," I interjected hopefully.

"Yes, do that," someone agreed. "Chûnin need to have that sort of experience anyway. He can teach her a little—enough to just hold the opponent still, that's all. No control—no manipulation."

I found it difficult to keep the excited grin off my face. "Thank you very much," I said, barely restraining myself as I bowed from where I knelt. "I greatly appreciate it."

_And_ they said he was out training. Could I have found a not-lazy Nara?

-o-

"Ugh, how troublesome," Shikamaru sighed, making it _at least_ the fifth time I had heard that in the last hour. "Are you sure they said that?"

"Positive," I assured him through gritted teeth.

He sighed again, but didn't refuse. Obviously, he knew better than to go against direct orders. "Akashi Takara, right? I guess—"

"Actually, no," I interrupted sheepishly. "Tsugawa Aru. I used a fake name."

"Then why aren't you using it anymore?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Why would you suddenly stop using your fake name?"

"I gave too many _different_ names," I admitted guiltily. "I'm trying to fix that. I mean—" I hadn't really thought about that at _all_, and while I was working on a plausible explanation, I was having trouble giving it words. "Besides, we _were_, like they said, operating under the idea that we were all strangers, and didn't know anything about our opponents. Now, we do know."

"And it would make more sense to keep as much information from your opponents as possible," he pointed out wearily.

Okay, he was way too smart. "Probably," I agreed. "But she already knew my name before that, 'cause I met her in the forest. It's too late now, anyway." That was possibly the weakest lie I'd ever spoken; now I knew why Chie-sensei kept trying to get me to push my lies further. Because I couldn't hold them up under pressure.

Shikamaru just looked at me and sighed.

-o-

A/N: A shorter, boring chapter again, but (as I'm writing this) I'm trying to get more written for during Script Frenzy, so I'm not going to keep going with this chapter, but go to a new one. For those of you who like long chapters… Oh well. I have no patience. :D Forgive me.

Oh, yeah! Show your love (what love? XD) of _The Obsession_ with some spiffy icons!! :o :o :o

element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/The-obsession-avatar-80922198

ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Kumo-Obsession-Avatar-80940591

Also, don't know if I've linked you to this amazing pic by Liz yet, either:

element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Make-believe-81484471

Ah, I love getting fanart. -beams- It makes my day.


	23. A Monster

A/N: I am _really_ bad at writing Shikamaru. D:

Oh, and sorry about not being able to post this in the morning. A) I didn't get up until about noon. B) When I did get up, the internet wasn't working, because I'm out-of-state in a hotel, and… well, it just wasn't working at the moment, or whatever. But now I'm posting it. :) Thanks for your patience.

And I'm so, so, so sorry that I haven't replied to any of your reviews yet. Please forgive me. I've had really no time; Script Frenzy, Bakura addiction, school… I'm way behind on my script, I can't stop drawing Bakura, and I have a short story to finish for class by Monday… I'm trying, guys. Sorry.

-o-

"Troublesome as it is, I'm going to go visit my teammate in the hospital," Shikamaru informed me. "You can come along or not, whatever you feel like. Despite the nuisance, I'll train you later."

Inwardly, I sighed, just a _little _bit frustrated. "Yeah, I'll come," I agreed. "But I'm gonna be hidden, okay?" I couldn't find a good reason for Gaara to be in the hospital, but one never knew.

"Whatever, just don't wander off," he said as _he _wandered off, hands behind his head. "Or do, if you want. It doesn't really matter."

Crossing my arms and looking annoyed, I slid into the shadows and followed Shikamaru through the pickup of a basket of fruit and the information that Akamichi Choji was not allowed to eat it. Then I found myself leaning invisibly against the wall of Uzumaki Naruto's hospital room as Shikamaru dozed off, woke up, and started reading a book.

Oh, yeah, he was _way_ too busy to train me.

"Hm?" Naruto mumbled sleepily from the bed as he struggled into wakefulness.

"Hey… you finally woke up," Shikamaru said, looking up from his reading.

"…Where… am I…?" demanded the blond in a sleep-garbled voice.

"The hospital," the Nara explained. "I heard you've been unconscious for three days."

Rolling my eyes, I tuned out the rest of the conversation, until I heard them decide to go eat in front of Choji, thus requiring movement. I trailed after them, wondering if I was just wasting my time.

-o-

I was the first one to see Gaara's sand trailing across the floor where it had fallen, because I was always on the lookout for it, even unconsciously. But I caught sight of it, then drifted away from Shikamaru and Naruto toward the open door.

As expected, Gaara was inside, his hand slowly clenching into a fist as he held it above Rock Lee's closed eyes. I held my breath, watching sand snake and swirl around the sleeping boy.

But Gaara's pale, quivering hand—it stopped, halfway closed. His eyes widened, and a moment later, Naruto's fist collided with the red-haired shinobi's face.

I couldn't suppress a tiny squeak of pain. Luckily, Naruto was busy shouting, so no one heard me.

"…Hey, Naruto," Shikamaru protested, rubbing his face. "Don't forget, while I've got the Shadow Possession thing going, anything you do to him, I feel it, too!"

Startled, I gaped at him. _That_ was useless; my genjutsu was better for paralysis. Was I wasting my time?

Well, I was still hoping for the manipulation thing. Maybe I could learn that from watching.

"What the heck are you trying to pull?" Naruto demanded of Gaara as I slipped inside the room.

There was silence as Gaara's sand slithered back into his gourd. Apparently unable to stand it, Naruto repeated his question, only a good deal louder.

"I wanted to kill him…" Gaara said softly, shocking both Naruto and Shikamaru. The latter then demanded to know the reason for Gaara's attack, asking if it was a "personal vendetta."

"No, nothing like that," was the icy reply. "I want to kill him because… I just want to kill him."

"Do you even know that the heck you're saying?!" Naruto exploded. "Do you?!"

"You really weren't raised right, were you?!" deduced Shikamaru, sending a grimace flitting across my face. "You're so self-centered…"

"If you try to interfere," Gaara whispered, "I'll kill you, too."

"What?!" cried the Uzumaki. "Just try it!"

"Hey! Quit it, Naruto!" Shikamaru hissed, looking mildly panicked. Narrowing his eyes, the Nara turned his gaze to Gaara, chewing his lip thoughtfully.

"I've seen you fight… I know you're strong," he began, and I was a good enough liar to recognize that Shikamaru was trying to fool Gaara. It wouldn't work, of course, but maybe it would buy them time.

"I'll say this once more," responded the red-haired shinobi when Shikamaru was finished. "If you keep interfering, I'll kill you."

OK, well, maybe not.

"YOU CAN'T KILL ME!"

"I told you to quit it! Don't forget, this guy has monster-like strength!"

_Not just monster-like, _I thought, leaning worriedly against the wall. So far, I had gone unnoticed, but I wasn't entirely sure how much longer I could keep the jutsu going. After all, I'd been hidden beneath it all afternoon.

"But I've got a real live monster inside of me!" Naruto declared, drawing my attention. "I won't lose to somebody like him!"

"You idiot! What do you think you're doing, egging him on like that?!"

"A monster, eh?" Gaara interrupted slowly, coldly. "Actually… I've got one of those, too. Just like you said, I wasn't 'raised right'…"

I stood up straight, eyes widening. I knew Gaara's past, because I made it my business to know, but… I'd never heard him tell it before. I'd never heard it in his own words.

"In the process of my birth, I stole the life of the woman I was supposed to call 'mother'… In order to create the world's strongest shinobi, my father used ninjutsu to implant an incarnation of sand within my body…" His seafoam eyes narrowed dangerously. "_I was born a monster!"_

_The process of his birth_, like he didn't even consider it a real thing, just a procedure, to be dealt with as if he were a machine. I was suddenly aware that I was trembling, and I didn't even know why; none of this was news to me, just… just his words.

"Crazy," Shikamaru was saying. "What twisted love."

"Love?" Gaara spat, the word coming out as a curse. "Don't judge me by your standards. 'Family'? Let me tell you what that word means to me. Mere hulls of flesh, connected by hatred and murderous intent. My mother's life was sacrificed…"

I couldn't listen anymore. I couldn't listen, couldn't take the words that he was speaking, couldn't absorb them or understand them or… or… I didn't even know. I was shaking uncontrollably, and I knew my jutsu was fading, but I couldn't do anything about it.

Panicking, I slipped out of the room, collapsed against the wall, but still Gaara's words followed me. "At first, I thought _that_ was love… until the incident."

"What incident?"

"What are you talking about?"

For a moment, there was no answer, and I thought that maybe, blessedly, he had stopped, stopped speaking, stopped telling stories that wracked my body and sent shivers through my soul. But then the voice came again, and I could hear the maniac smile that twisted his pale, demon face.

"For the past six years… ever since I turned six… my father has been trying to assassinate me. I've lost count of how many attempts he's made…"

"Make it stop," I moaned softly, not even considering that I might be heard. I wanted to get up and walk away, it hurt too much to listen, but it was Gaara, Gaara was speaking, and as agonizing as they were, Gaara's words drew me in like honey drew flies.

"A presence that is too powerful becomes a presence that is feared…"

I only caught a few words after that. "Liability," and "hazardous instrument," and "relic of the past." He spoke of "forget" and "purpose" and "exist," and each word Gaara spoke filled me with a burning, fiery _rage_ at his uncle, and his father, and all the people of my village who'd taken part. I still didn't want to hear any more of Gaara's searing dialogue, but now I was angry instead of only sad.

He only thought of _himself _as a tool. They _made_ him, and he didn't understand that he was a real person, too, not just a weapon. No one ever really showed him love, and deep down, he didn't think he deserved it, because he was just a tool.

If Yashamaru weren't already dead, I would have killed him. As it was, in my agony and my fury, the Kazekage was the next on my list.

_I exist to kill all humans other than myself._

_I would fight only for myself and love only myself._

_**I will not cease to exist.**_

"What's the matter, Naruto?" I heard Shikamaru ask, and I wondered what was wrong. But I couldn't bring myself to go look; I couldn't even bring myself to move. There came the sound of Gaara's sand skittering across the floor, and then the hiss as it rose into and slithered through the air.

"Now… _help me feel alive!"_

"_**ENOUGH!"**_

Startled, I leapt to my feet, gaze darting around until my eyes fell onto the back of a man who appeared to be Rock Lee's sensei. My shadow-jutsu was barely holding, I was barely hidden, maybe just shrouded in an ashen grey cloak, but the man had walked right past me—maybe even missed me altogether.

"The finals start tomorrow," he said calmly. "Don't be in such a hurry… unless you're eager to become an inpatient today?"

Tremulously, I peered around the corner into the room, praying I wouldn't be seen. Gaara's eyes had widened; his hand was once again clutching his head, as if it were splitting open. His sand was shrinking back into his gourd as he walked away from the hospital bed and the genin—

And headed straight for me.

I backpedaled, flattened myself against the wall, reached deep into my reserves and pulled out all the chakra I could manage. The bright hospital lights made it hard to find shadows here, and while it hadn't mattered so much when I sat alone, Gaara was coming now, and I _couldn't be seen._

I crouched down as he paused in the doorway, half turned back. "I will kill you all," he warned softly, icily. "Just you wait."

And then he turned and trudged right past me, though whether because of the jutsu or his pain, I would never know.

-o-

A/N: I was a little uncertain about this character. I just wrote it as it came to me, and looking at it, I thought it might be a little out of character for Takara… but Liz said it was fine. We'll see how it goes over with you guys. :D


	24. A Temper

Obsession

**A/N: So, welcome to my next chapter of Obsession! I definitely wrote this one, and I'm really, really proud of it, it's awesome…**

**Okay. I admit it. I didn't write this one. Liz (Element Girls) and I were joking around a while back and I was saying she should take over **_**Obsession**_** and I'd just keep taking credit for it. Then I asked her if she actually wanted to guestwrite a chapter. :D Since she is amazing… she wrote this chapter! I did, however, edit it. So, enjoy, and lavish praise upon her! -lavishes praise and Kaiba plushis on her-**

Before notes: Hey, everyone, I'm this infamous Liz that Kit mentions here and there in her artist comments. She asked me if I was interested in writing a chapter of Obsession, and how can one say no when she gives you the puppy dog eyes… So, sorry, people, but you're going to be getting a horrible chapter by a fan… (So if it's a fan's fiction or a fanfiction, would that be a fanfanfaiction?)

Disclaimer: I, Element Girls, a.k.a. Liz, do not own Naruto. As much as I have tried in the past years to gain control of the amazing Manga and anime, I still have yet to get my one desire….

--Wolf Vs Flame--

The finals arrived. Butterflies exploded in my stomach as my teammates and I walked toward the arena where we were going to fight. I glanced over at my teammates. Abura, who was also fighting today, seemed much calmer than me, but then, he was always calmer than me. Eiri seemed slightly upset that he wasn't going to fight, but he hid it pretty well as he encouraged me and Abura. As we got closer to the battle ground, which looked more like a stadium, I checked around for Gaara. He _was_ supposed to be here to fight. My thoughts about the sand monster where interrupted by a high-pitched squealing.

"Kori!" Isane and her wolfish teammates where just coming down the road toward us. Isane waved, happy as always, Hitotsu as silent as ever, and Onaji chewing on something. I wondered if it was poisonous. Isane ran up to me and took my hands in hers, bubbly as ever—if not more, if that was possible.

"Can you believe that we're going to fight against each other?! OHHH, I can't wait!! It's going to be sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo—" She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then continued, "—AMAZING!! I bet you'll win, but it's still going to be fun! Even though I'll totally kick your butt! Your shadows are so cool! The way you sneak here and there!!" She was now dancing around me, her clear blue eyes sparking. As she chatted away, my dark blue eyes suddenly caught sight of _him._

Gaara was walking with his siblings, solemn as ever; it was hard to tell that he had even been in that hospital only a few days ago. I silently wondered if it had all been a dream. Suddenly, Hitotsu interrupted my thoughts.

"Excuse her," he said, nodding toward the still-chatting Isane "My brother put caffeine in her breakfast, something about getting her back…" Onaji just shrugged, innocently scratching his head, and I caught a glimpse of some fading green strands of hair among his dark brown locks.

"It should wear off before your fight."

At the mention of her fight, Isane lit up.

"Ohhhhh, Kori! I can't wait for our fight!! It's GONNA BE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--" Hitotsu put a hand over his teammate's mouth.

"Come on, Isane, let's go." Nodding to Abura, he led his overly-hyper blonde teammate and his brother into the building.

We silently watched them go in until Eiri spoke.

"They're creeeeeeeeeepy."

-o-

Once we got inside, Eiri joined Chie-sensei in the stands while Abura and I walked onto the field. Gaara and his siblings were already there; my stomach leapt in my throat as I saw him calmly standing there, only a few feet away from me. I almost felt the urge to hide in the shadows; I had promised not to be this close to him without being undercover. As we lined up, I noticed a few of us were missing: the Uchiha, for one, and that blond guy—what was his name again? Oh yeah, Naruto. My musings over the blond boy were cut short as I heard Isane call out.

"Ohhhhh, look at the cows!!"

Turning, I saw the very boy I was pondering running for his life toward the stadium, a stampede of cattle running after him. Screaming, he leapt into the building, flying into the battle ground and falling flat on his face. I tried to hide a chuckle behind my hand as I wondered how this guy had even gotten this far in the exam.

After everyone lined up; the Uchiha still hadn't shown. Some guy who called himself Shiranui Genma gave us all the rules and told us how everything was going to work. Once he had explained everything, we all filed up to a balcony while Abura and Hitotsu stayed, getting ready to fight.

"GO, HIT-KUN!!" Isane cheered.

"You can do it, Abura!!" I yelled, cupping my hands over my mouth.

Both boys seemed not to hear anything as they circled each other, eyes locked. Hitotsu's hand was on the hilt of his large blade, dark eyes narrowed, watching Abura as if he were some sort of spy. Abura's body was tense, ready for any attack, his smoky grey eyes taking in his opponent's every move, calculating when and where he was going to strike.

The corner of Hitotsu's mouth twitched upward very slightly, and I heard Isane let out a small breath. Then, quick as lightning, Hitotsu's blade was out of its sheath and he was running toward Abura.

The black-haired boy back-flipped out of the way, sending short sparks of fire as he did. Hitotsu sliced through the flames, his eyes bright as he leapt into the air, trying to get the pyro from above. Right before the wolf-boy landed, Abura jumped out of the way, leaving a small exploding tag, which Hitotsu sliced instead. A loud explosion rocked the entire stadium. You could almost feel the tension in the air as everyone waited for the dust to clear, waited to see if the sword-bearer was alright. Next to me, Isane's blue eyes were trained on the thick smoke, her body tense.

As the smoke thinned, something darted to the right. Isane gave a squeal as Hiotsu bolted out of the grey cloud and rushed toward Abura. The pyromaniac backed up quickly as the blade came slicing down toward him.

I watched in shock as both boys stood a few feet away from each other, sweating and trying to catch their breath. I noticed that Abura was clutching his right arm where a neat cut had opened in his greyish blue jacket. Hitotsu was panting and his clothes where ripped in many places from the explosion.

Eyeing each other, both boys started to circle around again. The tension was so thick in the air that it made me shiver. Hitotsu tightened his grip on his blade; then, letting out a low growl, he charged at Abura.

The pyro back-flipped, shooting fire while Hitotsu lunged at him, slashing with his sword. They seemed pretty evenly matched, and it didn't look like the fight was going to be slowing down anytime soon.

Suddenly, Hitotsu changed his attack; flipping back, he then zigzagged toward a slightly confused Abura. The fire master's grey eyes tried desperately to guess what his opponent was up to, but it was all in vain.

I felt my breath catch in my throat and I almost looked away as Hitotsu lunged once again at Abura, unable to watch what would happen yet.

But this time, Abura was able to grab the other boy's blade. A smirk played on the smoky-grey-eyed boy's face. Hitotsu frowned slightly and twisted his blade sharply, sending Abura flying, but not before the young fire-user had set the large silver blade on fire.

Yelling in shock and anger, Hitotsu jumped back, almost dropping his now-flaming sword.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" he shouted, his face hard. Abura smirked slightly, cracking his knuckles.

"I coated your blade with my chakra, then set in on fire. It'll be pretty hard to use now."

Hitotsu growled, his face full of anger and hate. "You. Are. Going. To. Die." Then, letting out a howl, he charged Abura, flaming sword in hands. Abura's eyes widened, and he backpedaled hurriedly, narrowly avoiding being set on fire with his own flames. Next to me, Isane gasped; when she spoke, she seemed under the impression that she was a snake.

"I haven't sssssssssssssssseen Hitotsu thisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss mad sssssssssssssssince hisssssssssssss brother sssssssssssssspilled poison all over hisssssssssss blade and it dyed it green! Thisssssssssssssssssssss can't be good!"

The flames had reached the hilt of Hitotsu's sword; he dropped it at last and lunged at Abura. Both boys were fighting all out now. There were no more tricks to confuse the opponent. They were going head-to-head, fist-to-fist. At first, it seemed like Hitotsu had the upper hand, but I soon realized that, because of his anger, the cloud-nin wasn't thinking straight and Abura was using that against him. A few jabs and three fire blasts later, Abura was kneeling on Hitotsu's back with his middle and pointer fingers only inches from the wolf boys neck, a small flicker dancing around his hand.

Hitotsu struggled for a few moments, but it was useless; Abura had him pinned. Beside me, I noticed Isane take her hands away from her eyes.

"Is it ooooooooooooover?" she asked, her wide blue eyes turning to the field.

Genma walked out. "Winner: Abura!"

The pyro moved off his opponent, stood up, and held his hand out for Hitotsu. The wolf boy rolled over, then took the black-haired boy's hand, standing up and saying something. I couldn't make out the words, but Abura laughed lightly and Hitotsu gave a thin smirk as he retrieved his smoldering sword.

"Awwwwwwwww, Hit-kun made a frieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeend!!" Isane cooed happily. I smiled. So, friendships really could be made on the battlefield.

--

Waaaaaa, the ending is soooooo lame, and the whole chapter is sooo short!! I'm sorry, Kit!! -falls over crying- Anyway, don't worry, people. Desert.Moon will be back and writing soon!! -runs away from rotten tomatoes that everyone is throwing at her-

Element Girls out!!

**A/N: Wasn't that AMAZING? :D I love it. Her battle sequence turned out much better than my muse-abandoned brain could have done. Apparently, Bakura stole my muse to make me follow him… I haven't quite found him yet. I must leave a trail of bananas! Anyway… Yep. Thank you, Liz!**

**And once again, guys, I am way sorry about not responding to your reviews. I am so busy--I now have a French project due the same day as my script. -dies- I can't do this all! TTTT Anyway, I promise I'll reply next month, when things have settled a bit--and I HAVE read each and every single one of them, don't you worry. :) Thank you!**


	25. Interlude: Trust

A/N: Guys... I did it. I won Script Frenzy. I AM A WINNER. :D 108 pages at official count--I made it! (Insert happy dance and much cheering here.)

I actually finished a few days ago, allowing me to start on Ch. 24. I was surprised how easily I slipped back into the style and the first person writing; script narration was getting on my nerves. I'm excited. :D Anyway, if you're lucky, I'll finish 24 before I go out of town for the weekend on Friday; if you're not, you'll see it Tuesday or Wednesday.

Also, with regards to reviews: I will get back to them now. The only reason I haven't yet is that French project I possibly mentioned which isn't finished yet due to computer issues... So I'll either respond to reviews tomorrow night or Tuesday or Wednesday, most likely. Unless I have internet on vacation, which is entirely possible.

(Remember: Interlude equals Angst)

-o-

_I will never lie to Gaara._

_I don't know when I decided it, but I did, just like I decided that I would die by his hands. I know, for absolute certain, that no word I speak to him will be anything less than the truth._

_And if I have lied to him before, may I burn in Hell._

_Chie-sensei says that no one can trust me, and _he _has to be able to. Don't you understand? He has to know that he can trust me. _

_She's wrong, of course. There are plenty who can trust me—her, for one. And Abura and Eiri, and maybe Isane and Shihai and the others. I bet they could trust me._

_But they don't know that. They don't know it for sure, because I've lied to them—again and again._

_But… not Gaara. Gaara can trust me._

_He can always trust me._

_Even when lies slide from my lips like waterfalls of falsehood, even when I twist my—__**friends**_**—**_around my fingers like puppets, even when everyone in this world believes what I say… _He_ needs to believe because it's _**true**_._

_They… _they_ just need to believe because it's convenient, because it's—_

_Oh, Sand._

_She's right._

_She's _right_._

_I spin lies like the spider in her web, and dance through deceits for… for __**fun**__. They don't even __**mean**__ anything anymore—they don't even keep me—or _him—_alive._

_An addict. I'm an addict. I lie when a truth would do better. I'm addicted to deceit._

_They can't trust me._

_None of them can._


	26. A Fracture

A/N: Well, would you look at _that! _A chapter two days in a row! It's been a while since such a thing. :D Ahhhh, it's good to have reached May… Did you know, not only did I finish this chapter today, but I'm almost done with the next one as well? D: D: Unheard of!

-o-

I knew without being reminded that I was next.

Bouncing slightly, Isane turned to me, blue eyes alight with excitement. "Ohhhh, our fight! It's going to be SOOOOOOOOOOO fun!" she cried, practically shining with glee.

I directed a pleading—and, I'll admit, somewhat accusing—gaze toward Hitotsu. "You said it would wear off by our fight."

Onaji jabbed Isane in the side much like Eiri frequently did to me. Mostly like he did when I was in pain. Isane let loose a piercing shriek and a giggle. I cringed.

"'S _mostly _worn off," the poison master diagnosed as he gnawed on a disturbingly orange leaf dangling from his fingers.

Hitotsu regarded me with something like apology. "That's mostly just Isane. Good luck."

Despite the fact that I knew it was the expected response, I couldn't help but mutter, "Thanks, I'll need it."

It wasn't like I went out of my way to be unexpected, anyway. Just unseen.

Our names rang out across the stadium, calling us to battle. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep, calming breath. Unfortunately, my efforts were in vain as Isane exclaimed, yet _again_, "Kori-chan, our fight!!!!!! It's going to be SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"—she stopped for breath—"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO fun!"

Opening my eyes, I turned them back to Hitotsu. Somehow, I felt like I was begging for something, though I wasn't sure what. Probably earplugs.

"Doesn't she ever slow down?" I whispered.

Onaji eyed her. "I'm _pret-ty _sure she's just bein' Isane," he announced.

Hitotsu looked altogether too pleased as he added quietly, "The caffeine isn't _completely _gone."

"Doesn't that count as drug use or something?" I groaned under my breath as I turned to face my own teammates. "That should be cheating."

I slipped over the railing with luck ringing in my ears and stinging my shoulders. Keeping chakra ready in my fingertips, I trailed them along the wall as I dropped to the ground, not wanting to start my battle on my face. Carefully, I noted where Isane placed her hands when she landed, proving that I could so learn my lesson. When I wanted to.

We faced each other. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Kori-chan, this is gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOO—"

"Enough!" I wailed. She cut off, grinning.

"Winner buys ramen," she announced, then giggled.

I was a little bit broke, but I could probably scrape something together if I had to. "Um… sure?"

Beaming at me, she sing-songed, "Yesssssssssssssssssssssss! Get ready, then, 'cause I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally hungry!!!!!"

Despite her warning, I was taken by surprise when she leapt forward. Instinctively, I flung my hands out; a futile gesture, as I just ended up with chakra-made ropes crawling up my arms. Scowling, I drew out a kunai and bled my own chakra into it, severing my bonds before they rendered my immobile.

As an afterthought, I flung the kunai at Isane, following it with several shuriken. She flipped out of the way with almost blinding speed and I used the distraction to dart in toward her. However, she didn't stay still long enough for me to get close; a few minutes later, I was totally wrapped in thick lengths of chakra rope that had swelled out of the ground.

Well, actually, I _looked_ like I was bound and immobile—for a moment. To the audience, I then appeared to burst into a gentle wisp of shadow, and the bindings collapsed inward on themselves.

Crouched in the shadows against the wall, I grinned to myself, pleased that my Substitution had worked for once. At the battleground's center, Isane spun, icy blue eyes seeking me out.

Suddenly, I felt someone else's eyes on me as well. It was a ridiculous sentiment; not only was I practically invisible, I was in a stadium with hundreds of people and hundreds of eyes. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself not to look up.

But Gaara was watching.

The realization hit me like a blow to the head. I'd vowed that he would never see me again—yes, an impractical oath, but I _had_ made it—and here I was, fighting in full-view. As soon as I stepped from these scant shadows, I would be actively breaking a promise again and again.

But when I finally did glance up, Gaara wasn't even looking down.

Slightly troubled, I transferred my gaze back to Isane, brooding. I couldn't fight this battle from the wall. I had to go back out there.

Quiet, for one more moment. Then I decided.

A broken promise is only one more lie, after all.

Taking a breath, I rose to my feet, gathering chakra and shadows around me. I took several steps forward, preparing to attempt the Shadow Possession I had sort of learned from Shikamaru. Unfortunately, all such plans fell through when the ground abruptly collapsed beneath my foot. All vestiges of concentration shattered as I sank a few inches and stuck fast.

Isane looked delighted and randomly cartwheeled toward me. Frantically, I hurled kunai at her until I found myself running short, trying all the while to tug my foot free from cement-like dirt. It didn't help my aim.

The cloud-nin flipped through the hail of blades, her foot landing a resounding blow to my head. Dazed and confused, spots popping into my vision, I struggled to focus on Isane's face. Her shuriken was already at my throat.

No. No, no, _no_. Dang it, I'd already broken my promise; I was at least going to put up a fight doing it.

Quickly, dizzily, I grabbed one of my few remaining kunai and drove the tip into the center of Isane's shuriken, taking her by surprise and pushing her hand away. Startled, she released the weapon and I brought my own downward, flinging the shuriken to the ground. Continuing the motion, I dug the shuriken deep into the dirt by my ankle.

The hardened ground crumbled, and I yanked my foot free, leaping backwards just as Isane recovered and whipped another shuriken at me. Deflecting it with my trusty kunai, I lunged forward, swinging the blade. Isane stopped me time and time again, reciprocating with swipes of her own, but I managed to shred the long white sleeves of her shirt, and I could see blood staining her snowy fabric red.

I didn't get a single shot at her face, though. Apparently, that was Eiri's target.

Sparks danced from our kunai as they clashed repeatedly, grating harshly. The same light danced in Isane's eyes as she skipped backwards, deftly avoiding further injury. Hissing as she pranced out of reach, I flung the bloody kunai at the grinning kunoichi. It flew wide, but her eyes followed it, so I leapt in, aiming for an underpunch to her stomach. Arms in an X, she blocked my strike, then opened her fists and caught my hand. With a sharp twist, she flipped me to the ground. Rolling to my knees, I attempted a sloppy sweeping kick, momentum carrying me around to face her. It only swept one of her legs, which she then brought up into an awkward snap kick that caught me under the chin. My head snapped back, and the agony of the whiplash had me scrambling backwards for a chance to recover.

In the brief flurry of taijutsu, Isane seemed to have forgotten her traps—a bonus for me—but now she called on them once again. Pulsing blue ropes snaked up my legs, immobilizing them; I resorted once more to chucking shuriken, most of which missed. Nimbly avoiding the weapons, Isane skipped in close for the kill—

And I caught her in a genjutsu.

Deadlock, then. An impasse. Bound by chakra rope, I couldn't move; bound by shadowy chains, neither could she.

Immediately, I set to work sawing at my bonds with a chakra-reinforced blade, hoping I would finish before the genjutsu failed.

I nicked my skin a bit as I cut through the glowing ropes, but I was free. Warily, I limped toward Isane, kunai ready to hold at her throat.

Her eyes, closed as she sank into an illusionary pit of darkness, flickered. Then they opened.

"Got you," she giggled, delighted, and the trap had fooled the liar. My genjutsu had failed.

More ropes sprung from her hands, coiling about my arms. Frantically, I pulled against the bindings, but they pulled back, squeezing tightly. A sharp pain shot through my arm; a small cry escaped my lips as I stopped resisting; the resulting pull yanked me off-balance. I crashed to my knees, and ropes sprouted from the ground to wind around my legs as well. Almost totally paralyzed, I struggled to move, to keep fighting, but there was nothing I could do. The chakra ropes bit into my skin, squeezing a touch too tightly as I labored to get free; my efforts ceased as Isane's blade touched my throat. I was done.

"Winner…" A pause. "…Mizu Isane."

Instantaneously, the chakra ropes released me, leaving angry red welts all across my arms: thick ones from the bindings themselves and thin ones where my shredded fishnet sleeves had pressed into my skin.

For the moment, I didn't bother to rise, as Isane giggled, "You owe me ramen."

I frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about. At last, her words came back to me: _Winner buys ramen._

Her mistake registered for the first time. My lips twitched in amusement.

"Nope… _You're_ buying."

Isane laughed. "Kori-chan, silly, it was sooooooooooooooooooooooo fun, just like I predicted," she sang. "And we're _allllllllllllllllllllllll_ winners at heart, just like they say—" She grinned at this. "Buuuuuuut…"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "You won… and you said winner buys."

She stared at me for a moment. "I said _loser_ buys ramen. Loser aaaaaalways buys!"

"You _said_ winner…" I smiled slightly. "I'd blame the… caffeine."

"Onajiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" she wailed as I struggled to my feet. I tried to push myself up with one arm and a jagged pain coursed through the limb. I whimpered.

Isane's cry cut off immediately; she turned to look at me with concern. "Kori-chan?"

"I'm… fine," I gritted. Clutching my arm, I stumbled toward the exit, where I was greeted by a medic-nin or two.

"The fact that you're not unconscious does not excuse you from getting your injuries taken care of," I was informed.

I didn't protest too hard. After they fixed up my arm—apparently, it was broken—they let me sleep for a while. The darkness was sweet and refreshing, until a thousand pale green eyes blinked open to stare me into nightmares of blood and sand.

-o-

A/N: Well, I'm leaving SUPER early tomorrow morning for a vacation that will hopefully be lots of fun. However, this means that I will not be posting another chapter until Wednesday. Luckily, 25 is almost finished, and I should get _at least_ 26 (I'm hoping for 27, too) written on the plane rides and stuff, soooooooo… Well, this should be fun. :D See you Wednesday!

Do me a favor and rate my battle scene for me, would ya?


	27. A Wait

A/N: You know what chapter this is, guys? This is Chapter 25. And you know what Chapter 25 is? ONE QUARTER OF ONE HUNDRED. -faints- ONE HUNDRED. Now, I don't see the likelihood of this story reaching Chapter 100, despite its incredible and mind-boggling popularity, but still. The fact that I am on the chapter that is one quarter of one hundred is amazing to me. :D

Here I am, sitting at the airport ready to go home, with a couple hours to kill… And it occurred to me to check if I could get internet. Which I can. So you get a chapter several hours early. (I got five chapters and an interlude written on this vacation. D: It was amazing.)

-o-

The fact that the face hovering above me did not appear to belong to anyone from the medical corps was actual quite disconcerting. Of course, the whole picture was made worse by the distinctly wolfy features of the face… combined with the large bouquet of brilliantly colored flowers clutched in one stained and scrawny hand.

I moaned and closed my eyes again. Strictly speaking, I didn't have anything personal against Onaji himself, but I was not in the mood to have poisonous plants stuffed down my throat.

"Takara-chan," he sang, obviously not fooled by my closed eyes. "I brought flowers!"

He illustrated this by shoving them into my face. I shot up in bed, coughing and choking and resisting the urge to spit. Onaji held out the bouquet, smiling widely.

"See those red ones?"

They were impossible to miss. I eyed them doubtfully. "They're poisonous, aren't they?" I said glumly.

He beamed at me. "Yep! Don't you just love them?"

"Uhhhh… no."

I lay back down. Onaji was apparently under the impression that I was delusional from medicine or something, because his smile didn't fade in the least at my lack of enthusiasm. He tossed the flowers on the foot of the hospital bed and sat down in an empty chair. I closed my eyes again and pretended to ignore him.

To give him credit, he tried. He really did. But Onaji got bored really easily, it seemed. A few minutes later, he broke the silence again.

"Hey! Wanna help me test my new poison?"

I stared at him somewhat incredulously. "I'm in the _hospital_."

"So?"

There was no good way to deal with this, was there? "Um… no."

Silence and further rest seemed unlikely, but I prayed for them anyway. My expectations, rather than my prayers, were answered when Isane danced in, carrying two steaming bowls of ramen. She caught sight of Onaji and glared at him in mock annoyance.

"Ji-kun! Are you bothering Kori-chan?" she demanded, handing me a bowl of ramen. I was surprised to smell my favorite flavor; she added in a whisper, "I asked Eiri-kun."

Onaji grinned at her from his seat and answered brightly. "Yup! She likes that sand guy, but I'll win her over. Didn't you buy me any?"

I choked on my ramen. "I _what_?"

"Well, you stalk him, don't you?"

"I don't stalk him! I just… follow him a lot." Mm-hmm, that was a _great_ lie.

Onaji's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Isn't that stalking?"

"Uhhh… no?" Uhhh, yes. I was on a role today with my stunning grasp of _speech_. And, well, lying.

"Then… what's the difference?"

"One is more… stalkerish…" I frowned. Isane burst into laughing. At that point, I gave up the argument and returned to my ramen.

The blonde kunoichi shoved aside Onaji's abandoned flowers and bounced on the edge of my bed, causing me to spill noodles down my front. I sighed and wished fervently for a change of clothes. At least I was wearing black.

"Speaking of that sand guy," Isane began, and I perked up. "He's supposed to be fighting now."

"What!" I dropped my now-empty bowl on the bed next to me and scrambled to my feet. "I've got to be there!"

Isane grinned at my reaction. "He's not yet, 'cause his opponent's not here."

"I _still_ need to be there," I muttered, glancing down at my shredded, sweaty, stained clothing.

As if sensing my regret, Isane pulled a mass of black cloth from the bag slung across her back and tossed it to me. I felt like hugging her as I unfolded them to see an outfit almost identical to the one I was wearing—except whole. Confused, I glanced back at her; she was beaming like a child being praised by a parent.

"Eiri-kun let me raid your stuff," she explained.

"Eiri-kun lets you do a lot of things, doesn't he," I murmured, narrowing my eyes. "I'll have to speak to him about that one…."

My voice was filled with mock anger; Isane giggled. "Kori-chaaaan, let's go. The medics said you're fine, they just let you sleep."

-o-

I was all for running the entire distance to the stadium, but Isane dawdled behind me, skipping from stone to stone and balancing on the cracks. (I didn't know where Onaji had gone, but I was somewhat relieved he wasn't around at the moment. I was tired of flowers.) Reluctantly, I forced myself to slow up and wait for her every other corner or so. She had saved me, after all, in more ways than one.

Technically, she'd condemned me, too, but that wasn't her fault. I would've had to fight anyway.

Impatiently glancing back over my shoulder (_again_), I collided with someone else who also wasn't paying attention. Backpedaling, I apologized repeatedly in chorus with the other girl, who I recognized as the same one that'd given me directions to the Nara compound—Kyoto Unari.

"Oh, hello."

She blinked, curtailing her train of apologies. "You're—Tsugawa Aru." She smiled, green eyes lighting up. "Hello."

Remembering her detail-orientation, I asked her what had happened since my own match. While I waited for Isane to catch up, Unari launched into what was essentially a play-by-play. This ended with her explaining that Kankuro had forfeited and Temari and Shikamaru were still battling.

As Isane was now about fifty feet in front of me, I said goodbye to Unari, thanked her, and strolled after the blonde kunoichi. It didn't take me long to catch up.

-o-

We reached the stadium just in time to hear Shikamaru profess his lack of motivation after he'd already won. I was somewhat disappointed that I hadn't gotten to watch my sort-of-mentor in his match, but he probably would have driven me so crazy that I wasn't _too_ crushed.

Especially since, now, Gaara _had_ to be next. And I had made it in time.

"She's awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!" Eiri cheered as I leaned against the railing next to him, gazing down onto the field. Despite the fact that I was the one who'd been asleep, he was actually looking at Isane. I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

"Cheh, took her long enough," Abura snorted. I ignored him, too.

I suppose the waiting would have been more intense if I had been doing it longer, but I could've cut the tension with a kunai from the people around me. Eiri appeared to have gotten bored and was idly nicking the metal railing with a shuriken, but I was pretty sure he was just as eager for this as everyone else. It was too easy to get caught up in the excitement.

And Gaara couldn't start 'til Sasuke did. At least, not until he showed up.

Irritable mutters pulsed through the stadium, impatience ringing in every rustle and word. My fingers tapped edgily against the railing, drumming as if to call Sasuke home.

It didn't work.

I turned and walked away from my team, heading in the distinct direction of Gaara himself.

"Heyyyyyyy!" Eiri complained, looking up from his vandalism.

"Cheh, she's already had her battle," Abura muttered, fuming. "If she dies, it's no big deal." I still ignored him; I was pretty sure he was just worried.

As I walked around the stadium, I stayed out of the shadows until I got close to Gaara and his family. If I was going to last long enough nearby, I needed to conserve chakra.

"H-hey, it's almost time…" Kankuro was saying, sweat trailing down his face, as I faded into the darkness and slipped closer. "Is he really going to come?!"

Gaara paused, his harsh, cold eyes sliding sideways to stare at his brother. "He'll come," he hissed. "I'm sure of it!" Ignoring Kankuro's unnerved glance, he returned his gaze to the expectant field.

_Where _is_ that shinobi?_ I wondered furiously. _If he's not going to show, we should just disqualify him! _It wasn't that I wanted Gaara to be disappointed 'cause he couldn't fight, but if he _didn't_ fight, he couldn't get hurt.

But it didn't matter. I would have to sit through another match on the edge of hysteria, terrified for Gaara's life. I knew this for sure.

Because the leaves were twisting and dancing in a frantic whirlwind at the center of the battleground.

-o-

A/N: Despite the fact that this is Chapter 25, it is still a rather short one, because I wanted to make the fight its own chapter. Even though it doesn't go through the whole battle, of course, it's still… special. :D

By the way, the TakaOna (i.e., Onaji's one-sided crush) is ALL LIZ'S FAULT.

…

Worship her. It was fun. XD

Unari's back because "she" caught my 100th review. :D She'll show up in 50, too, 'cause 100 reviews is _**SPECIAL. **_:D


	28. A Struggle

A/N: **Alright, here I am, having just got home, and I'm doing something I don't believe I have yet done before. I'm posting a second chapter in one day. (Although since it's technically after midnight… but you'll get another chapter tomorrow/later today, so it'll still be two in one day.) You know why I am doing this?**

**Because you guys are amazing.**

**Because I've had a terrible three days that just got ten times worse, but when I open my laptop and see your reviews, I smile again. :) I laugh, and just for a moment, I can forget, right?**

**So this chapter is dedicated to you guys—to every single one of you who reviewed, and especially Mellolicious, whose reviews had me laughing incessantly, and Liz, whose newest chapter of her Suefic was freakin' hysterical.**

**So this is for you guys.**

…

**(Even though every single one of these chapters is for you; why the heck **_**else**_** would I be posting them?)**

-o-

A/N: Guys, this is totally unrelated, but I just finished watching the Kentucky Derby (and by the time you see this, it will probably be a week after the Derby, but still), and I want to ask… Well, the second place horse, Eight Belles—the first filly to run the Derby in nine years, and she got _second place_—fell at the end of the race, breaking both her front ankles… They had to put her to sleep right away. Remember her, okay? Even if you don't care about horses, think of her. She literally ran her heart out.

(On another, lighter-but-still-sad note, the horse named 'Pyro' was predicted to do really well… but had some issues out of the gate and ended up way near the back. D: Abura… TT.TT)

_For Eight Belles…_

-o-

The whirlwind burst apart and the leaves danced to the ground, leaving two shinobi in their place. One was the long-awaited Uchiha Sasuke; the other, his silver-haired sensei.

"Your name?" inquired the proctor, grinning with pleasure. Coldly, Sasuke gave it.

After that, the assortment of shinobi in the ring dissolved into conversation, mostly consisting of Uzumaki berating Uchiha for being late. I tuned it out, wishing I could yell at them to shut up and get on with it. However, the fact that I was hidden in close proximity to my village's most unstable weapon was somewhat detrimental to that desire.

"See…" Gaara hissed, demonic eyes trained on his opponent. "He came."

His gaze remained focused on the Uchiha. A few minutes later, Sasuke turned his face upward, and their eyes locked.

Naruto twisted to look. "Don't you dare lose to a guy like him!" he ordered, eyes narrowing in enmity.

"Yeah…" Sasuke replied absently, but his attention wasn't in it.

Neither was mine. I was too busy being furious on Gaara's behalf. '_A guy like him'? A guy like him is impossible to beat!_ I wanted to snarl. Aspiring to survive through the match, though, I kept it to myself. Gaara wouldn't let me live if he knew I was there.

Excited mutters raced through the crowd, swelling into a roar of anticipation. All eyes were on this match.

My heart inflated in my chest, choking me with apprehension. If anyone could put up a fight in the face of Gaara's demon, it was Uchiha Sasuke; I could tell that just by listening to people talk, but I had seen his first match, too. Over in an instant.

I was worried.

"Gaara, come down," Genma ordered from the ground.

A wicked smile half-twisted Gaara's face, creasing his forehead in demonic anticipation. Worry coated his siblings faces; sweat trailed down Kankuro's painted skin as he stuttered, "…H-hey, Gaara… Don't forget about the plan, all ri—"

Hurriedly, Temari's hand closed over his mouth. "Don't talk to him right now," she hissed. Gaara's eyes widened, the maniac grin spreading across his warped features.

"He'll kill you!"

Gaara trudged away, toward the stairs that would take him to the battlefield. Unhesitating, I slipped after him.

-o-

Voices sounded at the end of the long hallway; I thought one of them might be Shikamaru's, and the other was definitely loud enough to indisputably identify itself as Naruto's. Glancing at Gaara's face, I worried for their safety, and prayed they would stay out of his way.

Of course, I should have been more worried for the two shinobi in front of me instead.

Not that I felt any allegiance to them as they called for Gaara to halt. He paused, face blank, yet unquestionably intolerant, and I knew they would die.

Even as I trembled and wished I could stop him somehow, I grasped at the fact that it _served them right_, trying to order Gaara around like that.

You cannot command a god.

"Low-level tournaments like this Chûnin Exam are ideal for gambling, you know…" one began conversationally. "There are a number of lords who have come just for that reason."

"And so," the other sneered, almost smirking, "this match… We want you to lose it…"

Fury boiled within me, quenching my fear, and any sympathy I might've had. They _wanted_ him to lose it? Tough! They could—

My hands trembled uncontrollably, tightening around a kunai as I clamped down on my thoughts, on my anger. Neither would exactly give me away, unless I lost control and attacked these idiot shinobi, but my heart was pounding with rage, and it almost felt like Gaara could hear it, if he just stopped and listened for a moment…

But he was far beyond listening.

There was almost nothing left in his eyes that was human as the sand rose into the air around him, hissing and sighing as it twisted upward like a snake to the charmer.

If the shinobi had time to scream, they did not have time to give it any volume. Or at least, _I _didn't hear it; all I heard was the squelching and the crunching and the splattering of blood and bone.

Crimson spattered across the wall in a gory redecoration of the hallway, leaving the broken bodies abandoned on the floor. I was hit in the spray of scarlet and struggled not to be sick as I felt my face stain red. One hand quivered on the floor, straining to rise as the sand slid away, returning like a dog to its master. But life fled and the hand fell back to the ground, leaving me pressed up against the wall as Gaara traipsed away.

Shaking uncontrollably, barely able to maintain my balance, I pulled myself to my feet, leaning heavily on the wall, and followed Gaara.

The red-haired shinobi walked right past Shikamaru and Naruto without a glance. I cast them a fleeting look as I scurried by, noting the terror on their faces, but glad they had survived.

"I've never met anyone who killed so automatically," Shikamaru stated quietly, unaware of my presence moving past him. "Even Sasuke better watch it…"

I halted at the bottom of the stairs as Gaara continued out into the sunlight. _Everyone had better watch it_, I thought, watching him go, face etched with worry. _He's dangerous—and our mission is about to begin._

-o-

Gaara and Sasuke faced each other in the center of the stadium, eyes radiating simultaneous cold and the burning desire to _fight. _Though it was possibly not the safest place to watch from, I stayed at the edge of the field, sitting on the bottom step and praying I could hold the shadows around me throughout the match.

"Now then… at long last…" Genma paused; the tension swelled, ready to burst at the slightest touch. A maniac snicker slipped from Gaara's lips; I could see the unease flash across Sasuke's face.

The anxiety peaked. I held my breath. Genma's hand came down.

"Begin!"

A fluctuating, pulsing snake of sand bursts from Gaara's gourd as Sasuke leapt backwards, fleeing from a hissing, golden strike. But Gaara didn't attack; with a throb of pain, he hunched down, clutching his forehead in agony. Puzzlement flickered in Sasuke's eyes; I clenched my fists, knowing I had to keep myself in check. My teammates weren't here to stop me now.

"Please…" Gaara whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "Don't be so angry…" His breathing grew erratic, uneven, labored. "**Mother…**"

The sand spread over him in a grainy umbrella, greedy tendrils reaching out toward Sasuke. "I… gave you bad tasting blood earlier, didn't I…? I'm sorry…" I shivered, unable to tear my gaze away from the red-haired demon, his words echoing again and again in my head. _Mother…_ _I'm sorry…_

"But… don't worry… this time… I'm sure it'll be really **tasty**…"

A violent tremor ran through Gaara's body; he let out an agonized sound as he struggled to gain control. A moment later, he settled, breathing heavily, then raised tired eyes to stare at Sasuke.

"Come."

Silence. Then—

"Here I come," Sasuke confirmed, and in one smooth motion, flung two shuriken at his demon opponent. A geyser of gold surged into the air, catching the whirling blades and forming into a sandy clone. Sasuke dashed closer, and the clone spewed sand outward; the Uchiha leapt into the air to avoid it and flung himself downward in the wake of more shuriken. The clone blocked a flurry of strikes until it finally dissolved, leaving a path open to the real Gaara. Sasuke took it, but it didn't matter; a wall of sand shot up to stop his punch.

But his punch never connected with the blockade; Sasuke twisted, and was suddenly behind his opponent, fist pulled back in the beginning of a _new _strike. Gaara, turning much too slowly, saw the punch coming, but could do nothing about it. His eyes widened in shock and Sasuke's fist collided with Gaara's face.

I squeaked, biting deep into my lip in an effort to hold in the sound as Gaara was flung backwards, slamming into the ground. He struggled to his knees, sandy mask blank and cracked.

"Is that your sand armor?" Sasuke inquired. Gaara regarded him coolly, not bothering to answer such a foolish question.

Sasuke smirked, fingers twitching Gaara toward him. "Come."

The red-haired shinobi remained where he was, gathering his sand back around him. Fury flashed in Sasuke's dark eyes at Gaara's lack of reaction.

"If you're not going to come to me, I'll go to you!"

He flew around behind the crouching demon, sliding in to attack. His foot snapped out, colliding with Gaara's chest and flinging him back onto another mattress of gritty gold.

"What's the matter?" smirked Sasuke. "That all you can do?"

It took all my self control not to shout that it wasn't, but in truth, I wasn't sure I could've if I tried. My throat felt clogged, my voice faint; _what was Gaara doing?_

He could fight better than this. I _knew_ he could. I had spent half my life following him; I _knew_ what he could do!

Breathing heavily, Sasuke took off, chasing the golden river around the red-haired shinobi in an intense race for Gaara's wellbeing. Again, the Uchiha won, blurring in to send Gaara flying.

I could feel tears trailing down my face, mingling with the blood still there from Gaara's slaughter. Watching Gaara struggle back to his feet, I didn't bother to wipe them away; they'd only be replaced. What was he doing? What was he going to do? Why the hell wasn't he _fighting back?_

He had to do _something_.

My eyes flickered up to the Kazekage, watching the Uchiha drive his son into the ground with perfect impassiveness. Somehow, I wanted to shake him, to make him see, to make him _care_.

When my gaze returned to the field, great, grainy jaws were raising into the air, ready to swallow Gaara whole.

-o-

A/N: I know, I know, we're in the middle of the battle… But I don't want to _spoil_ you guys with chapters that are too long! :D Besides, this means that I'm going to start 27 right away, because I'm in intense-battle-scene-mode, which possibly gives me the time to—gasp!—get 28 written this weekend, too. XD Unless I do my homework… :D

Anyway, I'm getting really excited… The Chûnin Exams are almost over! :o This means that, soon, I can do something about a plot! And be creative! YAYZ!! -faints-


	29. A Reaction

A/N: I have suddenly felt the need to make something clear. You probably already know this, but I'm telling you anyway. XD Often, I write these author notes, I write them when I write the chapter, not when I _post_ the chapter. (Unless it's some time-sensitive material, of course.) So, when I say, "Hello from Las Vegas!" (yes, that's where I am right now), you probably won't actually get to see my hello 'til I've been home for, oh, four or five days. So I won't be in Vegas anymore. Obviously. I don't know why I felt like sharing that with you, but I did…

So, Hello from Las Vegas! :D

-o-

Gaara's Absolute Defense closed around the demon-bearer as Sasuke raced toward him, determined to reach the red-haired shinobi before the sand sphere solidified in an impenetrable shield. His arm shot out, directed toward Gaara's cold green eye, the only bit of human still exposed. The fist drew closer, closer, closer—but the shield spat sandy gold spikes at the oncoming shinobi, spraying blood into the air as they grazed Sasuke's skin.

Explosively, I released my held breath as the Uchiha backed away and the sandy thorns sank into the sphere.

Above the Absolute Defense, sand began gathering into a second, smaller sphere, forming a disembodied eye. I could almost hear Gaara chanting the words from inside his shield, though I knew it was really just my mind filling in the blanks. Sasuke looked unnerved for a moment…and then smirked.

Worry suffused through me, stifling my airway once again, at that expression. In the midst of struggling to breathe, it occurred to me that we of Sunagakure—though some of us, namely Eiri and Abura, even now didn't know it—still had a mission to fulfill… and Gaara wasn't following the plan.

At this point, I didn't care, as long as he survived that fleeting smirk on Sasuke's face.

Suddenly, the Uchiha sped forward, aiming a futile kick at the golden sphere, testing its strength. As expected, it caused no damage at all, and Sasuke slid backwards, eyeing it warily.

I could almost see the cogs turning in his brain, and I could easily see the resolve when he'd decided what to do.

Sasuke vaulted backwards and skidded up the wall, hands flying through the complex seals of a jutsu. I watched from afar with growing apprehension as blue lightning shimmered around the Uchiha's hand, flaring brighter and brighter as he began to run. Gaara's floating eye shifted downward, watching the dark-haired shinobi race toward him; once again, sandy thorns began to sprout from the smooth surface of the shield.

But this time, they were too late.

I whimpered as the lightning-coated hand of Uchiha Sasuke plunged into Gaara's shield, tossing globules of congealed sand into the air. There was silence, then, tension throughout, fighting the oxygen for a place in my lungs. A quiet, pleading "_No_" slipped from my lips as the thorns melted to the ground.

"Aaah… Blood… **I'm bleeding!**"

Forgetting I was hidden, sound ripped from my throat, my scream mingling with Gaara's agonized cries. It was impossible, _impossible_ that Gaara was hurt, that his own blood dripped to merge with his sand within that sphere.

Alarmed, Sasuke struggled to pull free, but the hole he had made closed around his arm, trapping him. The dark-haired shinobi thrashed, growling; it wasn't until lightning crackled once more that he was able to release himself from the sand.

And when he did, a warped and bulging claw came with.

Sasuke wrenched himself free and skidded backwards to his knees, dread written across his face. The shell cracked, then dissolved, oceans of sand sliding over Gaara's body to pool at his feet. His hand clutched his shoulder, where blood trailed down his arm, staining his pale skin red.

At that moment, it was all I could do not to run to him and wrap him in my arms. Like that wouldn't get me killed.

Above me, the stadium exploded into the feathers of a genjutsu, though I didn't notice, as my eyes were trained on Gaara and Gaara alone. Down below, I was unaffected; a good thing, too, because I wasn't aware enough to release it on my own.

Action erupted throughout and it hit me that our mission had begun. Unconsciously dropping my jutsu like a rock, I dashed out onto the field as Kankuro, Temari, and Baki dropped down from above. Gaara was too wrapped in his torture to see—lucky, I suppose, for me, but I would have rather had him whole, would rather be able to erase those anguished screams and wash away that streaming blood…

"Gaara, the plan…" Baki faced forward, but his eyes were on the demon crouched near the ground. They flickered to me, for just a moment, too, and narrowed. I couldn't tell if it was anger, irritation, or bewilderment.

"Hey…" Temari began, wide-eyed, and Kankuro finished, "What's wrong…?"

Glad to finally be able to yell at _someone_, I said, "What do you _think_ is wrong?! He's hurt!" I glanced frantically around, but I was almost certain Shihai was one of the sleeping—and I wasn't sure she'd heal a demon of a traitorous village anyway.

On the other hand, I did catch Chie-sensei watching me from the stadium as she knelt to release the jutsu on Eiri and Abura.

Temari and Kankuro, apparently not believing that I could actually be yelling at them, were staring at me while Gaara convulsed on his knees, quivering in agony.

"Idiot!!" Baki growled, mouth turned down. "I can't believe he would try to undergo complete possession without waiting for the signal…!"

"Don't you _dare_," I hissed, grabbing his sleeve. "Don't you _dare_ call Gaara an idiot, he just—he just wanted to _fight_, to _battle, _unlike the rest of you—you _traitors_, all looking to betray our allies, Ba_ka_-san."

I was really not increasing my chances of A) survival or B) being allowed to help, but I was furious. Baki towered over me, visible eye smoldering.

"You are speaking to a jōnin of your village," he said dangerously. "And _you_ could be considered the traitor for saying such things, _genin_."

"I don't care," I snarled. "As long as Gaara—"

"He's suffering a reaction!" Temari cried suddenly, cutting me off. "He can't do it anymore!"

"Then don't make him!" I pleaded.

"Then what are we supposed to do?!" Kankuro shouted. "You want us to go ahead without Gaara?!"

Baki hesitated, teeth gritted in indecision. Then—

"I'm calling it off!" he said decisively. Temari and Kankuro gaped at him, shocked; I almost collapsed into a puddle of relief.

"Thank you," I whispered, though I'm not at all sure he heard me, my voice was so faint. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You two take Gaara and withdraw for now!" he ordered, staring straight ahead.

"I'm going," I interjected firmly, and a little bit desperately.

Baki's lip curled just a little; he looked angry, and about to tell me no. I cut him off.

"I'm part of this mission, too," I snapped, trying not to let my voice shake. "Your _cannon fodder,_ remember? So let me go be cannon fodder."

"What's going on?" Kankuro demanded. He was decisively ignored.

"Fine," snapped Baki, eye furious. Most likely because he didn't know what to do with me otherwise.

"What about you, Master?" Temari asked anxiously as Kankuro, muttering darkly, slipped Gaara's arm around his shoulder.

"I'm going to help fight," he said firmly, staring straight at Genma. "Go!!"

"Y-yes, Sir!"

Simultaneously, she and Kankuro, supporting Gaara, launched themselves over the stadium wall. I caught the forgotten Uchiha's panicked expression as they escaped, but for the moment, he didn't move. I wasn't so sure that would last.

Knowing this—and knowing that Gaara was growing farther and farther away from me—I had to go. I was just about to follow the Sand Sibs over the wall when I paused, unable to resist one parting remark.

"Thank you," I said again, softly. "For Gaara."

This time, I knew he heard me. He just ignored me.

I turned around and leapt over the wall after the demon and his family.

-o-

A/N: A somewhat short chapter, but guess what that means? I'm going to be writing 28 this weekend, too!! D: D: D: D: I'm truly amazed that I'll be getting so much done. :D Of course, I _do_ have to do my homework, and I want to draw _more_ Bakura… But it's only Sunday. I still have Monday and Tuesday to get stuff finished. :D

Despite the minimal length of this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully, the next one will be longer…

…  
(I think I decided how _The Obsession_ is going to end the other day. It will be a long time from now, but… I know the ending. Unless it changes, of course. :))


	30. A Demon

**A/N: Uhhh… reviews… messages… the long ones… they take me a while to reply to. Please forgive me. I'll probably get to them tomorrow, but I have softball practice today, and should actually being doing homework instead of typing Obsession. Shows how much I love you guys. :D**

Ugh, I am _so _looking forward to not having to write these with the manga open in front of me. XD

-o-

We raced through the forest of Konoha, leaves snapping at our faces, fleeing towards I-don't-know-what. Perhaps we were just going home, heading towards the warm welcome of the blazing desert.

What mattered to me was that Gaara was safe.

I was pleased to be able to say that Kankuro was too occupied with supporting his brother to remember me for the moment, and I briefly considered coating myself in shadows to keep that up. Instead, I decided to conserve my chakra. Unfortunately for me, that led to Kankuro actually recalling my existence and demanding to know what was going on.

"Who exactly _are _you?"

For a moment, I contemplated giving him my fake name, but I wasn't sure that would go over too well with someone of my own village. At this point, I actually had no idea whether or not Kankuro knew of my cannon fodder existence—other than my outburst back at the stadium—but it didn't make that much difference now. I decided on pieces of the truth—as usual.

"Akashi Takara," I said honestly, quietly, casting worried glances at Gaara. He seemed to be unconscious, which was probably the best he could be right now. It suddenly occurred to me to wonder where Chie-sensei, Eiri, and Abura were, but as the thought was irrelevant at the moment, I shook it off. "I—"

We halted abruptly, faced by Uchiha Sasuke come to finish his match. Hurriedly, I backed up, a branch behind them, into the shadows of the leaves. "I can be invisible, if you need me to," I said quietly. Temari, growling at the human obstruction, nodded, and I faded into darkness. Actually, it was more like I faded into greyness; I was very low on chakra, having drained it while I sat and watched Gaara's match.

Across the tangled web of the forest, Sasuke stared us—well, them—down, breathing heavily, but smirking still.

"You're not getting away!"

Silence stretched over the trees as we faced each other. Sasuke tensed as Kankuro transferred Gaara to Temari and pulled his puppet from his back, standing straight and determined.

"Temari, take Gaara and go on ahead!"

As the blonde kunoichi agreed, I looked at them both and wondered if there was something I was missing. It had always seemed that Temari and Kankuro hated and feared their youngest brother, would have liked to been free of him… but here they were, doing more than necessary to keep him away from a deadly enemy. If this mission was aborted, why did they need him anymore?

Maybe they felt family ties more strongly than I'd thought. I felt my respect for the two of them rise just a little bit from where I was standing.

Somehow, I wished I could stay and help Kankuro, but there was really no competition. When Temari took off with Gaara, so did I, fading back into visibility as the others drifted out of sight.

"Can I… help?" I asked hesitantly, darting along beside Temari, reaching out a tentative hand. Never before had I touched Gaara, not in the six years I had made it my business to know everything about him… Yes, I wanted to know what his skin felt like—grainy, like the sand that shielded him, or as smooth as it was milky pale? Yes, I wanted to comfort him, somehow, help him…

She looked at me, startled. "Better not," the kunoichi said, almost regretfully. "He's unstable… a stranger…" She seemed too harried, too apprehensive, to form a coherent answer, so settled with a second, "Better not."

I gave a short bark of a laugh—me? A stranger? That was funny—and nodded in grim agreement.

Gaara twitched in Temari's grasp and I dropped behind a little bit, not wishing to be noticed. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he mumbled, "Let me down… Temari…"

"You've come to, Gaara?!"

She slowed to a stop, depositing the red-haired shinobi on a thick tree branch and kneeling beside him. He moaned in pain, clutching the side of his head and squeezing his pale eyes shut. Temari regarded him with quiet uncertainty and a touch of concern.

Suddenly, Gaara's gaze shifted to his sister; she looked like he'd stabbed her with a kunai. His breathing grew labored and he ordered, almost pleaded, "Temari, get away from here…"

Apparently, this was too much for Temari to understand. Puzzled, she rose to her feet—and Gaara threw her into a tree. She slammed into the trunk with a grunt of pain, snapping smaller branches as she went; mostly invisible again, I leapt to her side. As if I could help.

"Temari?" I whispered, but my gaze was trained on Gaara. His eyes narrowed in determination as they reached across the forest to rest on Uchiha Sasuke. A moment later, he convulsed again, seizing both sides of his head as if he were trying to hold them together.

Sasuke said something in the distance. I didn't care enough to try and hear what it was.

"Where's Kankuro…?" Temari breathed, worry coloring her voice. I deemed it safe enough—or myself irrelevant enough—to shed the jutsu hiding me as I knelt beside Gaara's elder sister. Uncertainly, I touched her shoulder, having no clue what to do.

"He's too strong to have lost that quickly," I invented hurriedly, though it could have been the truth. I didn't know much about Kankuro. Just Gaara. "I'll bet someone showed up to take Sasuke's place. The coward." A total lie, but what was I supposed to say? 'Sorry, Temari, your brother's probably either dead or dying on some tree limb near Konoha'?

The lie was better here.

"You who are strong… who are called Uchiha… who have friends… and have a purpose… just… like me…" One pale hand covered one pale eye, but the other looked straight at Sasuke, challenging him with a burning glare. "By killing you… I'll erase all of that… and then I will truly exist…" His demonic snarl grew more pronounced; a thread of drool trailed over his chin. "And I can feel alive!!"

On his knees, the red-haired shinobi convulsed, turning his eyes away before seeing the alarm in his opponent's. An inhuman growl ripped from Gaara's throat, mingling with pain as he shuddered and twitched.

I couldn't help it. I stood up.

I didn't bother trying to hide myself anymore; after all, what difference did it make if Sasuke saw my anger? All that echoed in my head was the knowledge that Uchiha had hurt Gaara, had made him like _this_—_no,_ whispered a voice in my head, _the Kazekage made him like _this_—_had shoved lightning into Gaara's chest and made him _bleed…_

Anger pounded through my skull, anger and pity and rage and pain. Temari stared up at me, totally disarmed, perhaps thinking to stop me, but I was going to attack—

Until the demon ripped itself out of Gaara and into the light.

The monster growled, hatred and bloodlust swimming in its eyes; I stared in horror, and knew that Temari and Sasuke did the same. A blue-veined arm of distorted sand bulged across Gaara's body, drawing his features into an inhuman snarl.

There was nothing—_nothing_—I could do.

Though my eyes were on Gaara, I could see Sasuke, too, in my peripheral vision—and he was shaking, shivering, shuddering in fear at the monster he saw before him. Something hit me, deep down, filling me with shame that swirled in my stomach and threatened to swallow me:

I should be doing the same.

If I hadn't known, for a third of my life, that there was a demon inside this boy; if I hadn't known that his father had sealed a monster inside him; if I hadn't _known_, I _would_ have been doing the same.

Even now, it was an effort to still the trembling. Even though I _had_ known, I had never seen, and if Gaara hadn't meant so much to me…

The demon launched himself at Sasuke. Rumbling and crashing and dying trees collided in midair, splintering to the ground as Uchiha leapt away.

"Do you fear me?" the monster snarled into the empty air. "Uchiha… Sasuke! **Do you fear my existence?!**"

-o-

A/N: I just noticed that I keep apologizing for short chapters that are longer than usual. O.o This is bizarre. I shall stop doing it now, and you guys can survive with 3-page-long chapters. :D (Plus, if I don't say anything, half of you might not notice. XD) That way, you get more of them, and I get to tell myself, "Yayz! I have a 30-chapter story!" even though it could have been 15, but that's not as fun. D: At least I don't usually give you super long delays between really short chapters, right?

…

Right?

(Wow. I've now written 3 chapters and an interlude on this trip. Plus, I drew three pictures of Bakura in one day. Nice.

…

I really should do my homework.)


	31. A Weakness

A/N: Guys, I'm sorry about all your messages still sitting in my inbox, I have read them all and they made me feel HUGELY warm and fuzzy inside (I want to throw out a special thanks to avatar-chik, who wrote the longest review I've ever gotten, which was also hugely informative with great ideas; as well as Mellolicious, who got the 150th review and is also awesome :D). But I got really sick, and didn't really do much today… I drew a picture of Bakura and mostly spent the rest of the time browsing the internet and watching episodes of a bad anime for glimpses of my adorable white-haired angel… (I worship Gaara, but I love Bakura. XD) In fact, you're lucky to get this chapter, 34 was fun-ish, but not capturing my attention because I don't feel good, so I almost didn't write it today. But I did. XD So I'm sorry about the not-replying, maybe tomorrow, and enjoy this chapter. I don't remember what it's about. I wrote it, like, a week ago.

-o-

"Well, what's the matter? Are you afraid of me?"

The harsh, mocking words echoed through the trees, battering my ears though they were aimed at someone else. A cruel, derisive shame welled up within me, because I _was _afraid. Even though I had spent half my life on this boy's tail, even though I pledged him more allegiance than the leader of my own village… I was afraid.

"Have both your hatred and your intent to kill… wavered because of your fear? Is this the pitiful extent of your existence? If you want an answer… **come on**!!"

My eyes caught movement that was not the demon's, and I found the hidden Uchiha emerging at last. Fury driving me, I whipped a kunai from its pouch and through the air toward Sasuke's back as the dark-haired shinobi initiated several complex hand signs.

If he'd even seen me the first time, he'd forgotten—or else he hadn't expected me to interfere. The kunai flew true, uninterrupted by human intervention.

Or actually, it would have flown true, if my aim didn't epic fail. As it was, the blade merely skimmed along Sasuke's arm, slicing the bandages coiled around the limb. He whirled around, chakra dying at his fingertips, to search for his attacker; luckily, I had already faded back into the shadows. I wouldn't last long there, but it was enough; Sasuke was distracted, and Gaara knew where he was.

The demon flung itself across the gap toward Sasuke, a manic grin twisting across his face. Sasuke spun again, leaping backwards blindly as Gaara crashed down on the limb where Sasuke'd been standing. He rushed through his seals once more, and the blue lightning crackled back into existence. I swore at my virtual uselessness.

Eyes hard, the two launched themselves at each other, deadly limbs extended behind them. An agonized roar split the air as Sasuke's lightning sliced through the monster's bulging, sandy arm. Gaara hit a branch painfully—and broke into frenzied laughter. I flinched.

"A-ha ha ha… I see! So that's what it was!"

"No way…" Temari breathed from nearby. "Sasuke was able to match and counter Gaara's enhanced state attack?!"

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" I whispered sadly, frustrated at my worthlessness here. She cast me a startled glance.

"…I just realized why… I'm enjoying myself so!" the demon declared, clutching his injured shoulder. "This pain… If I can defeat one strong enough to wound me, rob him of all that he is… _I'll feel even more alive than ever!_"

Briefly, I glanced back at Temari; fear widened her eyes, and she seemed to be murmuring to herself. I caught the word 'monster' once or twice and turned my face away.

"Ha, ha, ha! More, I want more!" reverberated through the forest, drawing our gazes back to the monster that ran loose half-wearing Gaara's body. The arm was binding itself back together; more sand slithered from Gaara's gourd to form a bulging, clawed tail.

"Ready for me?!" he—no, _it; _this was not Gaara anymore, I told myself again and again—shrieked, wrapping its warped limbs around a branch and launching itself at Sasuke. It crashed through Sasuke and his supporting tree branch, then stretched sandy claws to latch onto the surrounding trees, immediately flinging itself in the other direction.

The Uchiha sped through the seals, and for a moment, I feared the return of the blue lightning. But instead, his chest swelled and he spewed a blaze of fire at the oncoming monster. I inhaled sharply, but the demon merely curled its limbs around it and flew through the flames.

"Die!"

Sasuke crossed his arms and took the blow. It cast him into a tree, gouging out a niche where he sat, panting.

"Is this all your existence is worth?" the demon demanded. "Let me tell you…you're** weak**!"

Sasuke closed his eyes, weariness etched into his features. The monster didn't care.

"'Cuz you're naïve… and your hatred isn't strong enough. The strength of one's hatred is the strength of one's will to kill… and the strength of one's will to kill is the strength of vengeance."

It hit home. Even I could see it from where I was; the monster's words bit Sasuke to the core, and the monster knew it, too. It knew it, and it didn't stop.

"Your hatred will never match mine!!"

"Shut up…" Sasuke whispered.

"Do you understand me…?"

The Uchiha leapt to his feet, sweat beading his features; the lightning flickered back to life. Groaning, I sagged against a tree trunk, fear for Gaara swirling in my eyes.

"It means," the demon shouted, "you are **weaker**!"

It was as if the trees were no longer there, they had so little bearing on the enemies' flight. Blood spattered into the air as they clashed, but I couldn't tell whose; both landed whole, though hunched over.

A second later, the demon's arm slipped from Gaara's bleeding body, and Sasuke collapsed, a strange black pattern sliding like leeches across his face.

The demon groaned and another arm formed on the opposite side. Roaring, it hurled itself toward the fallen Uchiha, closing in for the kill.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a bright orange streak and a kick sent the airborne demon crashing backwards through the trees.

I cried out Gaara's name at the same time someone else cried out Sasuke's, and the Uchiha was suddenly surrounded by friends.

Uzumaki Naruto stood firmly in front of Sasuke, while Haruno Sakura and a small brown dog knelt beside him. The demon's eyes narrowed in irritation.

"S…Sakura?" Naruto asked tentatively, and when she didn't answer immediately, "Sakura!"

"What is it!!" she shouted, furious at having her attention torn away from Sasuke.

"Who's… that?!" His finger stretched out, pointing toward the monster that crouched on the tree branch across from him.

From my place, I snarled in almost silent anger. The demon warped his visage, but Gaara was still clearly visible.

"His appearance may have changed," began the dog, startling me, but not nearly as much as it could have. After all, Kiba'd been talking to _his_ puppy. "But it's that fellow, Gaara!"

"He's the one… who knocked Sasuke down…" Sakura trailed off.

"Yeah, well, _he's _the one who _made Gaara bleed_," I spat under my breath. I was still too far away for anyone—except maybe Temari—to hear, and though I'd faded back into existence, no one was looking at me either.

Naruto looked angry and a little bit alarmed. He cast an apprehensive glance back over his shoulder, then turned to face the demon as it shouted, "You're… one… I didn't get to kill!"

Uzumaki paused, trembling on the edge of fear. Then he spun, yelling, "L…Let's run!! C'mon!!" Panic stretched across his face, his hand flung wide as if to grab his friends and pull them away. It was the first sensible thing I'd ever heard him say.

It was too late, though. The demon had already hurled itself past Naruto, toward Sasuke. "Die! Uchiha Sasuke!!"

Dismay registered on three different faces as the demon drew near. Abruptly, Sakura rose to her feet, placing herself determinedly in front of Sasuke, kunai at the ready.

I made a split-second decision and was suddenly kneeling beside Sasuke, my own kunai held along the side of his neck where it would be so easy to cut deep, deep, irrevocably deep.

But I wasn't going to kill him. Not that I thought I could, but… Gaara wanted to. It was Gaara's desire to tear this boy's life from him, and I was not going to take that desire away.

I was just here to protect it.

The demon barely hesitated at the new obstruction; one sandy arm sent Sakura crashing into a tree, and one sandy claw held her there. Now the demon stood above Sasuke, one foot on either side, and just centimeters from where I knelt.

Pain throbbed in Gaara's head once again and he clutched it, moaning. Something orange flashed in the corner of my eye and I spun to see Naruto moving toward me, as if to whisk Sasuke to safety. Too bad _I_ was in the way.

Bewilderment flashed across his features as he turned his head back and forth, searching for a way to save his friends. "Sasuke! Sakura!" he cried, panicked eyes settling back on me at last.

"Who're you?!"

"I'm from Sand Village," I said quietly, dangerously, blade hovering at Sasuke's neck. "And I help _Gaara_. What more is there you need to know?"

Beside me, Gaara shook, agony shaking his body. "Why…?" I heard him murmur, and had to force myself to keep looking at Naruto, my opponent, where my attention needed to be.

"H-how can you help that… monster?!" Naruto demanded, fear widening his eyes. At least, I thought it was fear, but it didn't seem quite right. It was like his own words hurt him, too…

"Aren't all shinobi monsters in their own right?" I responded coldly. "Yet you help _your_ friends… Don't I have a right to help… mine…?" The word grated harshly over my tongue, though lies usually came so easily to me. Perhaps it was the nature of this one.

"He's… your…"

"What's the matter?" the demon cried, interrupting. "I thought you were going to run away?"

-o-

A/N: Woohoo! Takara did something!


	32. A Shattering

A/N: This is Chapter 30. (And I'm still on vacation! o: o: o: o:) This is not a particularly special chapter, as chapters go, except for the fact that it is a multiple of ten, which is usually somewhat notable, yes?

But it _is_ more notable than, say, Chapter 31, isn't it? It is. So, I am going to do my best… to finish up with this Gaara-Naruto battle! :o :o :o :o I am, in fact, writing this note while I'm still writing the chapter, so… Nothing will be given away. :D I have no idea if I can do it in under ten pages at this point. We'll see.

Also, it has been brought to my attention that, in the last chapter, Naruto called Gaara a monster—and, I realized with help from avatar-chik, that while Naruto may call some people monster, he would never tack such a word to Gaara. I'm too lazy to change this, so I'm just admitting my mistake and pointing out that I do know about it. Thank you. :) Enjoy!

-o-

From her place pinned against a tree, the rose-haired Haruno breathed the names of her squadmates and friends as if she were speaking her final words. It drew Naruto's attention, but couldn't hold it; the monster that stood before him did that job too well.

"Who are they to you?" the demon growled, eyes locked on the Uzumaki. Either he was too absorbed to notice me or he was content to let me hold the motionless Uchiha in place, because I remained untouched and ignored.

"Th..they're my friends!" Naruto shouted, pointing accusingly. "If you try to touch them again… I'll slaughter you!"

The demon growled. Sakura cried out as her sandy prison pressed her against the tree.

"Well… What's the matter? I thought you were going to slaughter me?"

The harsh words bit deep; I could see it in Naruto's eyes. The demon didn't let up, though, taunting, "Come on, then."

He hesitated, then cried out and leapt toward the monster. Lightning-quick, the demon's tail flashed out and swept Naruto backwards. Instinctively, I ducked down toward Sasuke; the sandy appendage whipped over my head without any regards to my presence. Not that I expected the demon to care.

Naruto climbed to his feet, looking a little bit panicked. I tensed as he initiated a summoning, but nothing threatening came of it. He then proceeded to have a heated conversation with a frog while the demon looked on—and then the sand bulged across Gaara's body, coating both arms now and all his face. The red-haired shinobi was almost entirely gone now.

"Friend? What a laugh…" it growled. "I fight… only for myself!"

It cut deep that I heard Gaara in those words, not just the demon. I hunched over, nails of one hand digging into the wood I rested on.

Without warning, the demon swept me out of the way. I didn't have time to make a sound, except when I hit a tree. Dizziness washed over me; I blacked out for a moment, before my vision cleared to show me that I'd slid down and was resting on yet another waist-thick tree branch. Faintly, I heard Naruto yelling in what sounded like offense, and I couldn't figure out why. Across from me, Sakura was still pinned to the tree, but the demon had detached its claw and regained the use of its arm.

The monster roared and raised one bulging arm, ready to bring it down on the immobile Uchiha and rend skin from bone. I saw alarm wash across Naruto's face and he darted in and out, Sasuke's arm slung about his shoulders. I hissed weakly in irritation as the orange-clad ninja laid Sasuke down safely on another limb and stood.

The demon growled furiously and gestured toward the captive kunoichi. "Unless you take me down, the sand around that girl won't dissolve," it snarled, possibly hoping to draw Naruto away from Sasuke. "In fact, it will slowly constrict, eventually smothering and crushing her!"

Naruto stood frozen, terrified indecision flitting across his face. His time to be in doubt was cut off, however, when the demon crossed monstrous limbs across its body and fired a multitude of golden shuriken at the Uzumaki. Alarmed, the orange-clad ninja snatched the frog off the branch just in time to be blasted backwards. Painfully, he climbed back to his feet; I saw his eyes fall on the monster, and I saw something in them that I couldn't identify…

No, check that. I _could_ identify it, because I had seen it before.

In Gaara's eyes.

It wasn't the same, though. It was old, faded, coated over. It was loneliness, I thought, but it was… different. _Faded_. It was the only word I could think to use. Darn it, I couldn't explain it, but it _hurt_. It hurt _me_, because I couldn't do the same for Gaara. I couldn't make the loneliness go away.

"What's the matter… Are you scared of me?" the demon demanded. "Whether you fight for yourself… or for others… You should only love yourself! Only fight for yourself! That's the definition of the strongest one!!"

"You should talk!" Naruto yelled wildly. "That girl—she risked her life and she helped you! Doesn't that mean anything to you?!"

_He's talking about me,_ I thought muzzily, still dizzy from my collision with a tree. _But what he's saying… it doesn't… make any sense. Isn't he listening…? Gaara… doesn't care…_

"I fight only for myself," the demon repeated in a snarl. "I don't need anyone else! Now! Fight me!! Show me your power, just like when you took down Hyuga! I'll grind that power into nothingness!!"

Shaking, Naruto glared back at him, but didn't move.

"Well?! What's the matter! If you don't fight me, I'll kill that girl!"

Naruto grimaced and leapt into the air. Almost instantaneously, he multiplied tenfold, but was immediately repelled by an Infinite Sand Devastation cast from the demon's mouth. The wind ripped through the forest, tearing up the trees. Though Naruto was thrown back, he struggled right back to his knees.

"First, I'm going to play with you without letting you die," hissed the demon. "I want to see how long it takes for you to give up on your friends and try to run away."

Again and again, Naruto was battered back, unable to take even a step forward or attempt an attack. I was oddly encouraged by the fact that he kept standing up, despite the number of trees he had collided with; I rose to my own feet, though I didn't know what I was going to do there.

There was a moment, then, when something changed. When Naruto got back on his feet, and I knew he wasn't going to lose.

I didn't want to know it. I didn't want to _believe_ it. Frantically, I whipped several kunai at his back, but he had already launched an attack, and they thudded harmlessly into a branch. A multitude of shadow clones flipped themselves over and around the demon until one—the original? I couldn't tell—scored a hit at the base of the monster's tail. Nothing happened, at first, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the demon sent the orange-clad ninja flying with a sweep of its tail.

But then the kunai exploded.

At first, I squeaked in fear, but when the smoke cleared and the demon was melting away… I thought maybe Gaara would be back, the real Gaara. I hoped Naruto had sent the monster packing.

He hadn't.

A moment later, Naruto burst into staggering amounts of chakra and exploded into more shadow clones than I had ever seen. He was shouting about—something—that I couldn't hear, because I was too focused on the sheer amount of orange.

"**Go!**"

I cried out as the clones rushed towards the demon, who'd not yet had time to recover. Again and again they struck, tearing the sand from Gaara's body and sending him crashing to the ground. The dove in again, intending another fatal barrage, but they were unable to land another blow.

The fallen demon didn't give them a chance.

A multitude of popping sounds split the air as the demon erupted into a massive cloud of smoke and sand. When it cleared, the Shukaku stood in its place, crushing trees beneath its immense weight.

There were various cries of shock around me, but I was silent, my breath caught in my throat. I'd never even been able to find a picture of the Shukaku back home, and I'd never known what it looked like. It would have been beautiful, I thought, with the elaborate blue swirls twisting across its body, if it hadn't been so… misshapen. Lumpy.

It wasn't worthy of Gaara.

Swiftly, I scrambled up the tree I was standing in so I could watch from above. Naruto was being swallowed up in a coffin of sand that should have lead to his death… but didn't. Instead, the coffin burst, leaving behind a frog—toad—whatever—whose size rivaled Shukaku's.

After a minute's hesitation, it launched itself toward the sand spirit, tearing through the Shukaku's body and landing on the other side.

"Fascinating! This is getting fun!" cried the demon. "**Uzumaki Naruto!!**"

There was nothing left of Gaara in that voice, and I abhorred it. _My_ demon was gone, taken over by this spirit who claimed his body.

But then I saw him slide out of Shukaku's forehead, the red-haired shinobi awake just long enough to put himself back to sleep.

The Shukaku's frenzied laughter shattered the air as if it was glass; I cringed away, feeling tears slipping from my eyes. "FREE! I'M FINALLY FREE!! YEAH! STRAIGHT OUT THE GATE, I SEE SOMEONE I WANNA SLAUGHTER!!"

The demon spat air from its mouth, but the toad jumped, deftly avoiding and returning with watery bullets of its own. The two barrages collided, spitting wind and water like a hurricane.

"WHEE! I DID IT!! I KILLED 'EM. I KILLED 'EM!"

But neither the toad nor the ninja had died in the blast, and they raced again towards the massive tanuki, destroying whole swathes of the forest. The Shukaku twisted its body, ready for a strike that would send the oncoming duo—no, trio; I could just barely see the little frog there with Naruto, if I looked hard enough—flying.

Then the giant toad exploded, and the smoke left behind drifted away to reveal a fiery red fox left in its place.

It latched onto the tanuki, claws raking sandy skin and fangs biting deep. Just barely, I could see the small figure of Naruto Uzumaki leap from the fox's head to bring his fist across Gaara's face.

I cried out and, before I could think, was darting from tree to tree in an effort to get closer. It was dangerous, I knew, to be so close… but that hadn't stopped me before.

Gaara's eyes snapped open. I wasn't close enough to see it, but I did know it, maybe by the way Naruto's foot sank into the Shukaku's muzzle as he raced back toward the red-haired shinobi. Sand swept in for the kill, but the toad's tongue whipped out and wrapped around the orange-clad ninja.

"Don't you mock me…" Gaara spat, teeth gritted, and I knew that the sand was slithering up from beneath, twisting around Naruto's legs, ready to drive the life from his body at last…

The tongue snapped away. Naruto and Gaara glared daggers at each other; I could practically feel the chill.

"I shall kill you," Gaara promised in a growl. "I will not cease to exist."

Naruto's eyes hardened. He raised his fingers, holding them in front of his face, and closed those same, hard eyes.

Then he erupted into a blaze of crimson chakra with a roar that shattered the air.

"**Die!**" Gaara screamed, but Naruto's only response was, "Here I come, you dumb tanuki!" as he raced forward. The sand coiled around him, holding him back, halting his punch, but Naruto wouldn't let that stop him.

"You… **BRUTE!**"

He brought his head down with as much force as he could muster. It collided with Gaara's; the red-haired shinobi's face blanked as blood coursed down both their faces.

The Shukaku shattered.

They fell together in a tsunami of sand. The giant toad disappeared, leaving his sword behind. The two falling shinobi landed on a pair of miraculously-intact trees, facing each other across the distance.

"This time…" Naruto gasped, "I'm really… completely empty…" I crept closer to catch his words. "You too, right…?!" He was breathing heavily, blood trailing over his skin. "…One more punch is all I've got left…We're birds of a feather… Let's make this it!"

Gaara said nothing, but they stood in unison. Simultaneously, they leapt into the air, flying toward each other with arms drawn back to strike.

I couldn't turn my eyes away. I thought I knew whose punch would connect first, but I didn't want to believe it. I _still_ didn't.

But Gaara… he was so tired. I could see it. Naruto'd had more chakra throughout the entire battle. Maybe they were both running on empty now, but the Uzumaki still had more energy than the demon-bearer.

Naruto's fist collided with Gaara's face, but they both fell. Tears coursing down my face, I leapt from my vantage point toward the place where Gaara was going to land.

My judgment was perfect; my speed, not so much. I made it to the right spot, but had no time to catch him; he just landed on top of me, sending us both crashing to the ground. Naruto crashed down several meters away, unhindered.

"Wh… why…" Gaara mumbled, breathing coming in ragged, weak gasps. I struggled out from under him and knelt by his side, but his head was turned toward Naruto. For a moment, I thought he might not have even noticed me, but his pale seafoam eyes flickered toward me for one, brief second.

With a colossal effort, Naruto began dragging himself towards us using only his chin. A growl ripped itself from Gaara's throat.

"…I will not cease to exist!" he cried desperately. "I won't! I **refuse**!"

Wide-eyed panic twisted across Gaara's face as the Uzumaki continued forward slowly, laboriously. "D…Don't come near me!"

"Gaara," I hissed frantically, grabbing his shoulders. He was shaking uncontrollably, but his eyes didn't turn away from the approaching Uzumaki.

"…That pain… of being all alone…" Naruto began, and I was shocked to see tears streaming from his brilliant blue eyes when I turned to look. "…It's not trivial… the way you feel… I dunno why, but… I understand it so well… the hurt…"

Gaara froze, his shaking stilled abruptly. Slowly, I drew my hands away and was surprised to see that _they_ were shaking now.

"But… I've got people who care about me now…" Naruto went on. "People that are important to me… I won't let you hurt them…"

"Gaara," I whispered futilely; I don't think he could hear me, he was so focused on Naruto's words. "Gaara, I…" I didn't want him to stop listening to the Uzumaki, but I wanted him to hear me, too. "There _are_ people who care about you… at least one…"

I felt totally invisible, as if my jutsu was in place, hiding me from these two shinobi. Naruto continued as if I hadn't spoken, and Gaara didn't even glance back in my direction.

"Even if I have to kill you… I will stop this…"

Furious tears seeping from my eyes, I leapt to my feet. "You will _not_ kill him," I hissed, balling my hands into fists. My nails bit into my palms; I could feel blood leaking over my skin. "You will _not—_"

"Why… Why should you care about others?" Gaara demanded weakly, and I couldn't tell if he was talking to me or Naruto, whose eyes were on me now. He'd looked about to say something, until Gaara spoke again, but the Uzumaki took the red-haired shinobi's words as being directed at himself and returned his gaze to Gaara. I wasn't insulted, or angry; Gaara was, by far, more important than I was—and I could see him changing while I stood there and looked back into his pale eyes.

"They saved me from my pit of loneliness… and they understand me… I couldn't live without them… **I love them.**"

"…Love…" Gaara repeated faintly, eyes sliding half-closed. I knelt beside him again, turning my back on Naruto.

Suddenly, I heard Sasuke's voice behind me, telling Naruto he could stop. "Sakura's safe. Gaara's used up all his chakra. The sand around Sakura has gone…"

"Oh, goody…" Naruto smiled and slipped into unconsciousness.

A moment later, Temari and Kankuro landed defensively in front of Gaara—and me, though _I _wasn't being defended. Gaara's face turned up toward the sky, eyes blank and staring.

"It's all right…" he murmured. "I quit."

Kankuro stared at him. "All right…" he replied, sliding Gaara's arm over his shoulder while Temari looked on.

Finally, _finally_, Gaara's pale, icy eyes turned to me; inadvertently, I shrunk back, looking away and not knowing why.

"Wh…Why?" he breathed, and I knew for sure he was talking to me this time.

My words froze in my throat; I had nothing to say. _I haven't figured it out yet_… But I couldn't say that, couldn't… hurt him? That would cut too deep, I thought. I had no reason to save him.

But I'd done it anyway…

"I—" I was shaking again, and I felt my eyes drawn back toward Gaara's, though I couldn't bear to look. _Naruto understood him… I love him, but Naruto _understood_ him… What's more important?_

_What am I going to say?_

"Because I'm from—" No, that was a lie. I couldn't lie to him, not to Gaara.

"You mean a lot," I managed finally. It was _all_ I could manage.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Kankuro, apparently thinking this was close enough to the end of the discussion, leapt away, Temari on his tail. I cast one more glance at Sasuke and Naruto and followed them all.

"Temari, Kankuro…" I heard Gaara whisper as I caught up. "I'm so sorry…"

Even from behind them, I could tell they were shocked. _I _was even startled.

"Uh, well, it's okay, I guess," Kankuro replied as we leapt toward home.

-o-

A/N: I DID IT!! PARTY TIME!! -throws confetti… and cake- I. DID. IT.

…

!!

:D

Be proud of me.

Now I have to actually think of a plot. D:

This is gonna be fun. :D

On a different note, does _anyone _know in what season _anything _happens in Naruto? Seriously? So I have at least something of a reference point? Do they even _have_ seasons? I want to try and figure out sort of when Takara's birthday is, but I don't know when the incident that marked the day after it _happened_. Anyone who can give me a plausible season shall be heaped with kudos and plushis of their choice! :D


	33. Interlude: Regret

A/N: I got the urge to write this when I, while on vacation, lost something irreplaceable and deeply treasured from my childhood. Needless to say, I was feeling quite angsty. Then, I was writing on the of the chapters, and one line that flowed out inspired this. I believe it was 29, although it could have been 30. (Too lazy to go check.) Kudos and cookies if you guess which one; it's not hard. XD

ANGST ALERT

-o-

_Why does he mean so much to me?_

_It doesn't make any sense. He has never shown me any love, never done me any favors. I've had to work to keep my existence from him, for every time he sees my face, he does his very best to drive the life from my body. He _killed my **father**_, for Sand's sake._

_So why do I keep going back?_

_Sometimes, I lie awake at night, wondering that. I turn it over and over in my head, then fall asleep and drown in dreams of blood red sand. The only conclusion I've ever come to is that I'm crazy—one hundred percent insane._

_It hasn't stopped me yet._

_Why hasn't it stopped me yet?_

_I've abandoned my team for him—abandoned my squad and my friends and my __**family**__. I've left them behind with nothing but lies and blood… and I never regret it. _

_But no, that's not true—I do. I regret it late at night, when I see them dying in my dreams because I could have helped them—and the demon stole me away._

_It's always my fault. But I never wake up screaming; only crying, because in the end, the monster means more to me than my friends._

_What does that make __**me**__?_

-o-

A/N: Irrelevantly, for those who are wondering, I have, thanks to KP-san, determined that Takara's birthday is end of July/beginning of August.


	34. A Hunt

A/N: KP-san suggested it (well, actually, she suggested a betting pool, but we're not going to _go_ there…) and I want to know! How many chapters do you think _The Obsession_ is going to wind up being? XD (I actually have no idea, I just wanted to see what you guys think…)

TWO HUNDRED REVIEWS!! -faints- OH MY GAARA!! Thank you SO MUCH—and congrats, Liz, my 200th reviewer!! :D Thank you to EVERYONE, though, who's ever reviewed, because without you, I couldn't have gotten this far. :D

Sorry for the lateness of this chapter; 36 ended up being twice as long as expected…

And now… the moment you've all been waiting for…

-o-

Chie-sensei met me at the gates to Suna; I altered my course to stop in front of her. Eiri was there; his arm was in a sling, and various minor injuries decorated his face. I guessed they'd stayed to fight for their village.

I opened my mouth to ask where Abura was, but Chie-sensei cut me off.

"Where have you been?" she asked quietly, almost dangerously. Almost.

"I… stayed to watch the match," I mumbled, too bone-weary to elaborate. Chie-sensei let it be, for which I was eternally grateful.

Eiri, on the other hand…

"Whaaaaaaaat? Whatcha talkin' 'boooout?" He sounded none the worse for his wounds, and the inflection of his voice was mere indignant curiosity. "The maaaaatch—?"

"Where's Abura-kun?" I interrupted, not will to deal with him at the moment. My eyes were on Chie-sensei's, but I couldn't read anything there.

"The hospital," she responded quietly. "At this point, it's a toss-up."

I didn't need more than that. I took off running.

And as I ran, I couldn't help but wonder.

If I had been there, would he have been okay?

-o-

In the end, Abura healed. It took a while, but he survived with no lasting damage. We had to light candles around his bed every night for a month, though; the nurses, tired of putting out fires and trying to tell him to rest himself, eventually sealed off his chakra. He got lonely without the heat of the flames to kiss his fingers at night.

He never said that, of course. But I'd never realized before that Abura was afraid of the dark.

Myself, I'd ended up with a few cracked ribs from Gaara landing on top of me, but nothing _too_ horrible. I healed quickly.

It didn't take the village long to discover the Kazekage's death and their manipulation at the hands of Orochimaru. They wasted no time spreading the information and offering to aid their fallen allies; I couldn't help but feel a savage pleasure at the news.

I wondered how Gaara felt.

I didn't hear anything about him for a long time. I didn't see him, either; I wondered if he'd been shut up inside, or if he were just still healing. Or if maybe he'd shut _himself_ up.

Eventually, I got too worried.

-o-

My mother was hosting another party.

This in and of itself was, of course, not a surprise. Why should it be? She hardly took a night off—ever—and I was beginning to question how she could afford all this. It had never occurred to me before, but now it was right up there in my mind, just behind '_Where's Gaara?'_

But what was—not surprising, but somewhat unexpected—and painful—was her proclaimed _reason_ for this one. She claimed it in mourning of our _beloved_ Kazekage's death.

I didn't buy it, and I didn't support it. I wasn't mourning anybody.

So that's the night I skipped out. Not that I didn't _usually_ skip out on Mother's parties, so it wasn't suspicious or anything, but that was the night I didn't just sit on the rooftops or wander idly through the streets of Suna.

That was the night I went hunting.

-o-  
I slipped through the shadows with no need for chakra expenditure; the night was dark and the streets relatively empty. What sort of ninja would I be if I couldn't even hide in the dark without a jutsu? It was better this way, for now; warm black clothing would be enough until I got close to Gaara's home.

It had occurred to me, once or twice, to simply walk up and knock. I didn't see any reason for any of the Sand Siblings to bear me any sort of enmity; in fact, they _might_ have been grateful. There was no way to be sure, but I_ had_ stuck by Gaara… in his time of need?

Whatever. There was no certainty, and, well… I didn't really want to. The shadows were a better place for me to be. Maybe it was some lingering shame.

Maybe it was just better.

When I reached the right building, I climbed swiftly up the wall; it was easy to stick to the shadows while there was no more illumination than flickering and unreliable torches. I almost fell, once, when a glint from said torches caught my eye and distracted me, but I caught myself fairly quickly.

Finding the right room took me a while.

I'd thought I'd known, but peering in the window revealed a distinct lack of Gaara. This was somewhat detrimental to my plan, and I ended up crawling across most of the building, looking in windows and trying to find the red-haired shinobi.

He found me first.

-o-

Sand coiled around my middle, yanking me off the wall and dangling me disconcertingly over a very firm _nothing_. My first instinct was to squeak in alarm, and despite my tendency towards stealth, I couldn't quite manage to stifle this entirely. Judging by my position, I was pretty sure it wouldn't matter. I'd already been found.

It occurred to me that I was moving in a distinctly upward direction. I knew exactly why, and resisted the urge to struggle; I wasn't entirely sure that I wouldn't be dropped.

Plus, this was what I wanted, wasn't it?

Well, no. I _wanted_ to do it without being seen.

Yeah, that plan had gone _magnificently_.

The journey up wasn't long; I was close enough to the top of the building when I'd been captured. The sand set me down not-exactly-gently; I landed on my knees, rubbing my arms where I'd been squeezed too tight. My hand came away bloody; I wiped it hurriedly off on my shredded sleeves, and when that didn't work too well, I transferred it to my pants.

And then I realized what I was doing. Where I was. _Who was standing in front of me._

I dropped both my hands to my sides, but remained on my knees, eyes on the stone beneath me.

"The roof," I whispered. "Of course. I should have checked there first."

There came no response. I didn't expect one. Quickly, hesitantly, I risked a glance upward. He was actually sitting.

Gaara saw my face. His eyes widened. "You…"

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a not-so-good thing, so I didn't say anything. Actually, that was more due to the fact that I was having issues with breathing, but…

Cold silence reigned once more. Unable to stand the suspense, I glanced up at Gaara again, although this time, I didn't look away.

His usual—well, in the absence of people to kill—impassive mask seemed to have broken sometime since I had seen him last—no, I knew when it had happened; Uzumaki Naruto had shattered _that_ mask. Emotions—unidentifiable, except for… _confusion_—warred across his face as he stared at me.

"What… are you doing here?" he inquired finally, coldly.

"I—got word of—" No. Not only was that a lie, it was an implausible one; Gaara could take care of himself. So the question was, would it be better to tell the truth or say nothing at all?

"I was looking for you" fell out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Some spy I was, couldn't even keep a tiny bit of information to myself.

This only seemed to increase the intense puzzlement—and extreme discomfort, I thought, but that might have been because he still didn't understand this whole emotions thing—on his pale face. He seemed to be searching intently for the right words, but all he said was "Why?"

I'd never considered just how hard talking to him might actually be. Once again, words swelled up in my throat, but I bit down sharply and tried to figure out how not to lie.

In reality, all I wanted to do was turn tail and run.

At the same time, that was the absolute last thing I desired. It had been several months since I'd seen Gaara at all, and… it had been painful. And here I was, having a _conversation_ with the monster of my childhood. How many people got to do that? How many people got to do that after they'd become unhealthily obsessed?

Well, it _might_ have been a conversation. If I could have done any talking without choking on my own words.

"Because," I said elaborately. Gaara waited. In vain.

This was ridiculous. I was not meant to confront him. I was meant to watch him, to hide from him.

Slowly, I rose to my feet. The sand gathered around me on the rooftop twitched violently, as it were some wild animal and I had startled it. I froze, until the sand had settled again, and returned my gaze to Gaara. It felt… wrong… to be standing there while he sat, as if I had the power because I was higher than he was. As if _I _could ever have more power than _him_.

"I—" Darn it, that seemed to be the only thing I could ever say around him! But it was too easy to let a simple little lie—"I need to be going"—fall from my lips in front of him. It was ridiculous, anyway, this notion that I couldn't lie to him.

That didn't make it any easier to dismiss.

"I'm going to go," I said softly, almost letting it be a question. That seemed much safer; as far as I knew, it wasn't a lie. For the moment.

I began edging backwards.

When I felt my heels on the edge of the roof, I spun around and leapt to the next rooftop. Unhindered.

Breathing erratically and fighting some unidentifiable feeling in my stomach, I dashed away.

-o-

A/N: …That was surprisingly difficult to write. We don't see much of Gaara directly after his battle with Naruto, so I don't know exactly how to write it… In short, I'm having to make it up as I go along. D:

How am I doing so far?

AND OMG!! Liz wrote another installment to her fanfic of a fanfic!! It's TOTALLY TakaxGaara, so… -snickers evilly- Go check it out.

www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/4139805/2/Trust


	35. A Leak

A/N: You may have noticed that you didn't get a chapter yesterday.

This is because I ran into a wall. I literally ran into a brick wall and it knocked me out. I was all ready to tell you this fic was on hiatus for an indefinite amount of time; I was half-ready to give up fanfiction for ever; and I was about ready to get started on quitting writing altogether (except I could never do that). But then Liz came along and helped me work out a solution. Everything will be okay, now. :)

But the next few chapters are essentially filler. They were fun (especially 33, the one after this), but not crucial to the plot. Please, don't mention this to me. I already know it.

(On the other hand, now that I've assured you I'm _not_ currently going on undefined hiatus, would you guys keep reading if I only posted chapters once a month? I'm curious as to how deep your unbelievable love runs… XD)

For Liz. :D

-o-

"I've a mission for you," said Chie-sensei.

"Cheh, about _time_," said Abura.

"Who's the one who's been in the hospital for three months?" said I.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" said Eiri. Possibly just 'cause he wanted to contribute.

Exactly _what_, on the other hand, he was contributing, I'm not sure anyone really knew.

I grinned at this passing thought and raised my hand. Chie-sensei raised an eyebrow at me, as if she weren't entirely sure why I was acting like this was the Academy, and said, "Yes?"

"Please elaborate?"

I wasn't sure whether or not she liked having her own phrase tossed back at her. She took it in stride; I guessed she didn't particularly care.

"It is not A-Rank, of course, but it _is_ a step above cleaning garbage off the streets."

"Only ooooooooooooone?"

Chie-sensei smiled slightly. "Perhaps more than just one step above. After you all pulled your own weight on our last mission—"

"Cheh, 'cept Takara-chan," interjected Abura mockingly, but jokingly.

"You weren't there," replied Sensei sharply. "You do not _know_ whether or not she did her share, and I am satisfied with her efforts."

This had _me_ gaping at her, as well as Abura. (Eiri, on the other hand, was staring off into space, a pleasant smile on his face as he chewed idly on a senbon. He didn't appear to be listening.) "_You_ weren't there, either, Sensei," I pointed out, before it occurred to me not to undermine her defense. Apparently, Abura had been about to say the same thing, because he closed his mouth with a snap.

"You obviously underestimate my ability to _speak_" was her cutting reply. "You weren't the only one there."

I paused a moment. "…Fair enough."

"Cheh—"

"Miiiiiiiiiiission," Eiri reminded us.

Chie-sensei handed us each a scroll; Eiri had his open in an instant. "It's blaaaaaaaaaank," he complained.

"Well, you've failed," said Chie-sensei blandly; Eiri gaped at her.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"I felt _sure_ there was a test just like that during the Chûnin Exams. However did you pass?"

"Cheh. _We _carried the scrolls."

"Sharp of you."

"As much as I'm enjoying tormenting Eiri-kun…" I sighed. He poked me. With a kunai.

"This is an information-gathering mission," Chie-sensei informed us, curtailing further attempts at clashing.

I perked up, intrigued. "We're spying?"

"Cheh, that's _Takara-chan_'s specialty. Why are we going along?" Abura demanded.

"Are you complaining?" inquired Sensei sweetly. "You could sit in the hospital for another several months."

Abura shut up.

"'Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiides," put in Eiri. "Just ooooooone genin's noooooooticeable."

"And Takara could never pass as a chûnin," Abura smirked.

"I'm pretty sure chûnin still have squads," I pointed out.

"And I would not send you on a mission where you'd be useless," Chie-sensei said, regaining control of the conversation, and it was only half a lie. "Just… Eiri-kun will not be… handling any of the information."

"Awwwwwwww…"

"This is a team mission—"

"To _where_?"

"Konoha."

-o-

We did _eventually _get the mission details, although Eiri and Abura erupted into an uproar worthy of five or six people at the news of our destination. (To be fair, I contributed a _little_ bit at the beginning, but subsided quickly into silence.) There had been vague word of a possible planned assassination attempt—as you can probably tell, it was not exactly certain, which is why a squad of genin was put on the job, not someone _skilled—_of a member of the Council. (We had no replacement Kazekage yet, so the Council was taking care of running the village. More so than usual, I mean.) In essence, we were simply being given practice because the Council couldn't ignore it entirely—but if they did, or if we missed anything, no big deal.

I was the first to point out that Konoha was hardly in a position to make a play for power inside Suna. "We decimated them. And we're the only ones offering to help right now. Why would they try to alienate us when _we're_ trying to make up for our mistake?"

"IT's why this mission is _not_ the highest priority," said Chie-sensei quietly.

"Cheh," said Abura. "No one said it was a Konoha-nin who was doing the assassination. Just that the threat came from Konoha."

This caused a moment of bewilderment from us ordinary genin.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I clarified, considering that Eiri's questions were rarely very specific.

Chie-sensei was smiling slightly, pleased that Abura'd figured it out. "We look for the nin who aren't form Konoha."

-o-

"_Isane_?"

"Kori-chan!" the Kumo kunoichi squealed, delight lighting up her face. She jumped around a lot, using my shoulders as support, and hugged me quite a few times.

A moment later, something collided with my back.

I fell forward onto Isane and spun around to see—well, glimpse, rather—Onaji waving cheerily and running off.

"He's not after more poison for me, is he?" I inquired doubtfully.

"Nope!" Isane said cheerfully. "He was just saying hello for old times' sake. It was all over when he met Ino. She understands him."

"Oh." I really didn't know what to say to that. I was too busy trying to figure this out.

Because there was no way Isane and her team of genin were the assassins.

…Was there?

"You _are_ still genin, aren't you?" I asked her suddenly, just to be sure.

"Yep! The Chûnin Exams cut off early, remember?" She grinned at me.

"Do I ever," I muttered. "What are _you_ doing here?" I glanced around. "And is Hitotsu here, too?"

"Well, duah," she laughed. "Ji-kun and Hit-kun are _never_ far apart!"

"Unfortunately," murmured the tall, broad-shouldered Kumo-nin, coming up behind me and scaring me to half to death.

"And you're here why?" I prompted.

"We've been sent t' help out with the rebuilding. Personally," she confided, "_I_ think Kumo jus' wants Konoha to _owe_ them. A couple of genin? We're _so_ much help." Isane grinned again, as if the fact that she was useless was perfectly alright with her.

"Well, every bit helps," I said absently, then frowned. "Are you allowed to be telling me this?"

"Am I allowed to _think_?" she replied, affronted. "What a silly question, Kori-chan… Ahhhhhh, I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO glad to see you!!" With no more warning than that, Isane engulfed me in another round of inescapable, bone-crushing hugs. Gently, I pulled away, trying not to breathe heavily and insult her.

"But! Kori-chan, you didn't say why _you're_ here!"

"About the same reason," I admitted. "Although _my _village is looking to repay a debt, not looking to earn one."

"Heyyyyy, Kori-chan…." Isane looked as if she were about to ask something that she _really_ wanted to ask. "Where's Ei—"

"Hey, Aru-chan!" called a very familiar voice behind me, saving me from having to direct Isane to her… potential suitor. She'd find him soon enough anyway.

I spun around to see Kiba and Shino walking toward me, Hinata trailing along behind. Relieved, I waved them over; Kiba had his usual grin plastered on his face, but it widened as he approached.

"Hey, Aru-chan," he repeated. "Want me to sniff out your sandy stalkee?"

-o-

A/N: So, it randomly occurred to me to ask… Who's your favorite character (of my OCs)? I'm curious! :o If you know how to use the review button, let me know! Even if I already know, let me know again anyway, so I have a "record" of it in the reviews section. :D That way I can go to "reviews for chapter whatever-the-heck-this-is" and see. XD Even if you have more than one… choose one! D: I know this is hard. Being a fence-sitter myself, decisions are difficult for me. But YOU CAN DO IT! The Author knows this! (The Author also knows that speaking in third person and referring to herself as The Author automatically gives her more power.)

…Oh, what the heck. Throw out your favorite pairings for me, too. You can have more than one of those. XD

THE AUTHOR WANTS TO KNOW! And what the Author wants, the Author gets… right? Right? Yeah?

…Right?

…

(Raise your hand if you read the Author's Notes, too. XD)


	36. A Vacation

A/N: Hey, guys, there won't be any chapters over the weekend; going to an anime con. Leaving in an hour or so, won't be back 'til Sunday. Miss you. :)

-o-

For several seconds, I gaped at him like a fish out of water before I managed to sputter, "What the hell does that mean?"

Kiba snickered; I could even see the faintest trace of amusement on the tranquil Shino's face. "Are you sure?" He gestured to the puppy sticking out of his way-too-warm-for-this-weather, how-is-he-not-dying jacket. "Me'n Akamara can sniff out anything."

"I know exactly where Gaara-san is," I said through gritted teeth. "What I don't know is how in—"

No, wait, I did know. The answer was coming straight toward me, just about ready to bite me in the face.

Onaji bounded up on all fours, looking distinctly more canine than usual. It only added to the image that he had several flowers dangling from his mouth. He sat down in front of us, looking incredibly pleased with himself; if he'd had a tail, I swear he'd have been wagging it.

Despite my preoccupation, I couldn't help but lean over to Isane and whisper, "Are those poisonous?"

"Probably," she responded brightly, and I wondered why I even bothered asking. "Unless he's come from Ino-chan. I think she's been training him. To, ya know, put the poison in someone else's mouth."

I looked alarmed. "Does she know how dangerous that is?"

Isane sighed elaborately. "Probably not."

"Hmm…" I straightened up, pondering ways to keep my friends and loved ones safe from this new menace when something else occurred to me. This time, I angled myself toward Hitotsu.

"Does he have fleas?"

"Quite possibly."

Frowning, I leaned away from Onaji's twin. "Do _you_ have fleas?"

"_No_."

I relaxed, then returned my attention to the problem at hand—i.e., the exposure of my stalkerish status. My eyes traveled back and forth between Onaji and Akamaru a few times, and I sighed.

Of _course_ they'd be great friends.

"Just what've you been spreading?" I demanded.

"Only told Kiba-kun," he whined, looking up at me with wide, brown, pleading eyes…

"I'm a cat person," I informed him. His face fell.

"So you told Kiba-kun, who in turn told his teammates, who also told…"

"I don't give away secrets," cut in Shino. "Insects are silent informers; as am I."

I wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean. One of these days, I was going to have to discover what was up with Shino and these bugs. Maybe later I would sneak into the Aburame compound and find out.

"A-a-and I-I d-didn't t-tell anyone, e-either," Hinata informed me almost inaudibly.

"See?" Kiba grinned. "Your secret's safe with us."

"What secret?" I grated. So half of Konoha knew—I was willing to make assumptions based on the fact that I'm not the only one who can lie—and probably all of Suna knew, besides my mother.

It suddenly occurred to me that my mother might not really be so out of the loop as I thought. A party a day and no gossip about her daughter? _That_ seemed unlikely.

Unless, of course, everyone was afraid to tell her. If _I _were someone else, _I_ would be afraid to tell her.

Then again, _someone else_ didn't know her like I did. She was well-informed—and that was something I was going to have to figure out how to deal with later.

Kiba seemed to be finding this a good deal more amusing than I was. Luckily, further teasing was cut off but a call of, "There's no time to stand around chatting! Get to work!" The man who'd spoken was hidden by the pile of wood he carried; I couldn't even see what village he was from, though I assumed Konoha. On the other hand, it didn't really matter, 'cause he was right.

We scattered, saving me from more embarrassing conversations I couldn't lie my way through. I headed off to rejoin my teammates.

Because it _was_ time to work. Just not necessarily on rebuilding Konoha.

-o-

"You think_ Mizu's_ squad is the assassination attempt? _Cheh_."

"Well," I said, idly toying with a strip of wood I was probably supposed to be doing something with. All this wood—it burned far too easily. Stone was so much better.

Oh, wait—that was supposed to be Abura's though. _He _was the pyro.

Actually, that probably _was _what he was thinking, considering the way he was eyeing it. Eiri was nearby, cutting through the wood with his kunai. Abura had assured me that he _was_ supposed to be doing this, and quickly silenced with a glare all the weaponsmaster's protests that the work was dulling his blades.

"Well," I said again, having lost my train of thought. "She's not from Konoha and she's not from Suna."

"And she's creeeeeeeeeeeeeepy," Eiri put in, as if this settled the matter.

"But she's a genin. Cheh, the whole squad's genin."

"But their Sensei's not," I pointed out, eyes glittering.

"Besides. They may be genin, but what are we?"

"Not on a mission that's actually being taken seriously."

"Maybe they aren't either."

Abura rolled his smoky grey-blue eyes and finally gave in to temptation, torching a long strip of wood and watching it burn.

"Heyyyyyyy," protested Eiri, apparently indignant that all his hard work was going to waste.

"What's the harm in letting me look?" I persisted. "Eiri-kun can keep Isane busy while I searching… She's looking for you, you know," I added.

"Creeeeeeeeeeeepy," he repeated firmly, but his sky blue eyes were shining.

"Cheh. And what am I supposed to do?"

I had a feeling that he wasn't actually asking me this, he just wanted to know what I would say. "Eh, go light something on fire, Pyro."

He held up the burning strip of wood, heedless of the flames that licked at his fingers. I stuck out my tongue at him.

The whole "mission" felt rather like I'd always imagined "summer vacation" to be like, if I'd ever gotten a summer vacation. (Unfortunately, that privilege was limited to _regular_ students; after all, shinobi don't take breaks for seasons changing.) We all felt lazy as a Nara—and let me tell you, cloud-gazing seemed like a really good idea right then. I was incredibly surprised that Eiri was actually working… But then, he probably wanted to look "manly" for his girlfriend. Or something.

I wondered what he would say if I repeated that out loud.

"Hey, Eiri-kun—" I paused. Would he stop working if I was making fun of him for it?

"Whaaaaat?"

Oh well, it would be worth it for his reaction.

"Are you actually working just to look manly for your girlfriend?"

Thus ensued the longest silence I'd ever heard while Eiri was nearby. I was half-afraid I'd end up with my throat slit in a second.

What followed was the longest "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!" that'd ever come out of his mouth. I glanced over to see the kunai slip from his limp fingers as he wailed.

"Cheh, nice going," Abura snorted. "You had to say something we already knew just to irritate him. Were you _trying_ to make him stop working?"

I snickered. "Some shinobi we are."

"Guuuuuuuuuuyyyysssssssssss!"

Abura lay back on the half-repaired roof, ignoring Eiri, and sighed. "Fixing roofs and carrying wood. The ninja life for me."

Giving in to temptation as well, I lay back also, gazing up at the fluffy white wisps drifting by overhead. Idly, I wondered how many Naras we were currently sharing the clouds with. "It's kind of relaxing."

"Shinobi aren't supposed to relax," he replied regretfully.

"I know."

Eiri plopped down next to us, apparently having forgiven the jibes.

"Get back to work," Abura ordered.

"Ehhhhhhhh," he complained, and didn't move.

A nice, companionable silence blanketed the warm air for a while. I thought Eiri might have fallen asleep.

"Chie-sensei would be ashamed of us," I sighed at last.

"Cheh" was Abura's only reply.

"Where is she, anyway?" I asked after another pause.

"Cheh," he said again, and I was half-convinced he was asleep, too.

"That wasn't terribly specific."

"Deal with it," he said scathingly. Grinning, I lapsed back into silence.

-o-

A/N: Ah, who needs TakaGaara when you have InoOna? XD

REJOICE! This chapter marks the end of my Obsession Notebook! (Well, plus one more paragraph, but this is specialer, 'cause 33 is almost 1/3 of 100, right? XD) This is the notebook I write in while at school. (Obsession's not the only thing in it. I have bits of _Stealing Thunder_, _Shades of Grey, _and _Sand Child_, but _The Obsession_ does take up a good deal of it.) But now, I am totally out of pages! (I have more notebooks, don't worry.) So… uh… this is special. Yes it is.

(By the way, you know that part where Takara says she's a cat person? Inside joke. Go read Liz's fic _Dream Catcher_; Takara makes a guest appearance. As a cat. With Stalkerish Tendencies. XD)

Ahah, I loved writing this chapter… it was so much fun… despite its lack of Gaara. D:


	37. A Development

A/N: …It's been way too long. Forgive me, please… ;;; I could've posted Sunday when I got back from the con, but I was too busy squeeing over the Bakura cosplayer I hugged THREE TIMES (I hugged Gaara once, too :D), then looking at pictures of Bakura while I pretended to write an English essay. Then, the next day, I spent a while watching episodes with Bakura in them while drawing him on my homework, and last night, I spent more time watching him while avoiding _other_ homework. (Yes, I do this on a regular basis. Can someone please tell me why I'm a still a straight-A student?)

Anyway, now I've finally remembered to post this while I'm actually on a computer, instead of, say, downstairs eating dinner. o.O

As you might have noticed, chapters will be coming less often now. I'll probably explain why around 40 or so… D: (This mysterious chapter 40… oooh…)

-o-

I awoke to someone's face right above mine and instinctively sat up, which was a little bit difficult with a stranger in my personal bubble. Or, actually, _not_ a stranger, as I saw after I'd refrained from swearing into _her_ personal bubble.

"Shihai-san!"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I _think_ you're supposed to be working." She straightened up, grinning, and I couldn't miss the way her eyes slid toward the sleeping Abura. Who was probably actually awake now, thanks to me shouting Shihai's name.

Somehow, I didn't feel too sorry for him.

I nudged the "sleeping" pyro with my foot, which was unnecessary, I suppose, but amusing. "Someone's here to see you."

"Actually, believe it or not, I'm not. Well, I am, but not just him. Not him in particular. Specifically. Whatever."

"Cheh. So you woke me up for nothing." Abura scowled.

"You weren't asleep," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Cheh."

"Actually," Shihai said again, "your sensei sent me with a message, since I wasn't busy at the time she spotted me and I guess she was. She said, 'Get a move on.' I couldn't figure out why 'til I found y'all sleeping here like a bunch of Naras. She must've known." The medic-in-training grinned.

"I'm sure she did," I muttered. "If you see her, tell her we're working on it, please?"

"We aaaaaaare?" Eiri mumbled, sitting up and groggily rubbing his eyes. "_Iiiiii_ thought we were sleeeeeeping."

"That's what it looked like to me, too," Shihai grinned.

"Looks can be deceiving," I said wisely. "Just look at Abura-kun."

"Cheh." He seemed unoffended, so I elaborated.

"He looks so cool, with his oh-so-apathetic demeanor and his… swoosh hair… but on the inside…" I shook my head despairingly. Eiri snickered, and Shihai attempted to keep in her laughter.

"Well, Shihai-san," I said, picking up a strip of wood as if I knew what to do with it, "it is, in fact, time to get back to work. So long!"

She waved cheerily and disappeared; as soon as she was gone, I dropped the piece of wood and was surprised that Abura didn't torch it before it hit the roof. Maybe he didn't want to set the whole building on fire. "That settles it. If this building hasn't been fixed in the three months since it was destroyed, it can wait a little longer. You heard Chie-sensei."

"No, I heard Shihai-san."

"Shut up, Abura-kun. Eiri-kun, go keep Isane-chan busy."

"What should I dooooooooo?"

"I dunno. Whatever you normally do with her. Take her on a date. That'd make her happy."

"Cheh, she'd probably strangle him with joy."

"Hm, probably." I frowned. "That might not the best idea… Find something else to do."

"Actually, I say we risk it."

"You do?"

"Cheh."

"…I suppose that's a good enough yes. Eiri-kun, go take Isane-chan on a date."

He paled visibly. "Whaaaaaaaat?"

"You heard me." I turned away, hiding a grin. "Go on. Get. I have work to do."

"Ehhhhh…" He leapt away, probably with far more reluctance than he really felt. I snickered. Abura rolled his eyes.

"Cheh. So what should _I_ do?"

"Eh. Go light something on fire," I cackled, and disappeared.

-o-

I wasn't too sure what I was looking for—mission orders, maybe, if they were careless enough to leave them laying around—but it was easy enough to find the place where Isane and her squad were staying, and equally easy to get inside.

Or, well, so I thought. I'd forgotten that Isane was a trapmaster.

I struggled with the ropes that had been hidden up until just a moment ago as they crawled up my legs, twisting about the firmly. It was my sincerest hope that they weren't somehow rigged to alert someone of their distant triggering—although, knowing Isane, they might well have been. Finally, I managed to cut myself free and stagger through the door, where I was immediately engulfed in another wave of ropes.

This was stupid. Seriously, I knew better. Isane may have been my friend, but she still didn't want me snooping through her stuff—and it didn't mean she wasn't going to set traps. I mean, even if _Eiri_ had been the one going through her things—I couldn't help but snicker at the thought—she still wasn't going to leave it undefended if she didn't _know_ Eiri was going to be there.

Okay, back to the problem at hand. I was decidedly trapped this time, as was intended. I couldn't even reach a kunai to cut away the ropes.

The first priority was the mission. I bled chakra into the shadows that lingered throughout the room and began searching what I could see of Isane's belongings—and the other person's, who I assumed must be her sensei, as the Inukas' stuff was in the adjoining room. I was slipping farther and farther down, trying to reach _into_ their bags and see through the gloom, when I suddenly fell over.

Instinctively, I leapt to my feet—and was surprised to find that I could.

Startled, I looked around frantically, wondering if I'd been released because Isane'd shown up and found me. Luckily, lying my way out of this situation wouldn't be too hard; my mind was already forming the words.

But Isane wasn't there.

I looked down at my hands and swallowed hard. They weren't the normal color; instead, they were a deep grey, which was quickly lightening. It wasn't long before I looked perfectly fine again.

Had I just done what I'd _thought_ I'd done?

Apparently, I really could meld with the shadows now.

Well. That made life interesting.

I conducted a hurried search through the bags, looking for indication of whatever, and moved on to the Inuka twins' without much success. Really, I still didn't know what I was looking for. It would only be luck if I found something; I was obviously going to have to think this out better. Like maybe actually tailing Isane. Or her sensei. Or something.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and I made a split-second decision, dashing back into Isane's room and bouncing onto her bed. She popped in, smiling, and her expression turned to one of startled pleasure. I hopped back off the bed.

"Kori-chan!"

"Isane-chan!" I responded in kind. "I just got here a minute ago, I wanted to talk to you!" Something struck me; I frowned. "Didn't Eiri-kun ever find you?"

She giggled. "Yep. But I had to come get you, as soon as I picked something up from here. Your swoosh-haired teammate seems to have set something on fire."

I closed my eyes in silent horror. "How big a something?"

"Eiri-kun told me to find you," she cackled, which was definitely not an answer.

"Lead the way," I whispered, opening my eyes. She was practically doubled over in laughter.

"Oh, well, it must not be that bad, if it's so funny," I hissed, though I couldn't smother my own smile. Her giggles were infectious.

-o-

"So, how'd you get around my traps, Kori-chan?"

"Well, it wasn't easy," I said truthfully. "I got caught in the first one 'cause I wasn't paying attention. You probably saw it cut on the floor." I grinned sheepishly. "I avoided the second 'cause I knew you."

Isane smiled knowingly. "So they don't work 'gainst people I know…"

I think she was going to say something else, but I had already stopped dead, my jaw hanging open.

"Oh, Sand…"

"Your swoosh-haired teammate seems to have set something on fire," Isane repeated in a giggle, and I took off running.

"ABURA-KUN!" I bellowed, skidding down a road into the general vicinity of a _burning building_. Yes, you read that right. It took me a minute to realize that I had also already skidded past Abura, where he lurked in the shadows.

"That's my spot," I hissed, stalking back over to him. He was smirking with pride, and not at all deterred by my anger.

"Cheh, you told me to."

"You know very well that was a _joke_," I growled. "If you felt the need to give in to your pyromaniac impulses, why couldn't you light up something smaller?!"

He shrugged. "Cheh. I figured you'd want a distraction."

"Well, it didn't work; Eiri-kun sent Isane-chan after me, severely cutting short my _spying_."

The pyro rolled his eyes. "That boy is an idiot."

"Doesn't change what happened. What if you got caught? What if someone got hurt? _Whose house did you burn down?_"

"Cheh, look closer. No one was inside. And no one knows I did it."

Quivering with anger, I turned and finally recognized the building as the one we'd been 'building.' "No wonder Eiri-kun sent me," I muttered. "You destroyed all his hard work."

-o-

A/N: STALKER POWERS ENHANCED!

Ah, it's been a while since that happened. XD

…I know I have way too many reviews to reply to. I love you guys. ;;;


	38. A Date

A/N: Guys… I couldn't live without you. Seriously. You are the reason I get up and write every day. I mean, I love writing, but usually, I'm just not inspired. Then, I think, "No, I have to write Obsession for my fans," and I write three to four pages in one day. It's… -all emotional- Thank you.

Also, I believe this series is officially more than 50000 words! :o :o :o :o :o Amazing.

…

Speaking of 50000 words, I should tell you… If you thought April was bad, wait 'til November. D: November is NaNoWriMo—Nation Novel Writing Month—which I put far more effort into than Script Frenzy. It's a 50,000-word novel in 30 days—and I succeeded last year, so I'm hoping to do it again. :D You'll probably end up with about the same situation as last month, with a schedule for chapters.

-o-

"Put it out."

"What?"

The smirk disappeared, and for a moment, he looked totally disarmed. This seemed odd; I'd thought my command was perfectly understandable.

"Put. It. _Out_."

Something like panic actually flickered in his smoky eyes, startling me. "I can't."

"Liar." Over at the building, people ran around in a frenzy, tossing water and prayers onto the blaze. "This is a village made of _wood_, surrounded by a _forest_. Didn't you_ think_? You're supposed to be the smart one!"

"Cheh," he attempted, but his voice wavered, and I cut him off before he could try again.

"I _know_ you can put it out. I've seen you quench the smaller ones."

Face ashen, he croaked, "The _smaller_ ones."

My eyes narrowed, attempting to hide the fear growing inside me. "You were always the person I'd most trust to play with fire. Is your pyromania going to get us all killed now? _Put it out!_"

"I can't!" he shouted. "Even the sparks… it's like cutting off part of myself… The whole building… It would be like… putting out my heart…. Or plunging the world into darkness…"

"I never took you for a poet," I said drily. "Now—"

"Takara-chan, aren't you listening?!"

I grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "What do you need, more chakra? I can lend that. Or—"

"No," he hissed. "I have the ability, just… not… the strength…"

That was bad. That was very, very bad.

It suddenly, irrelevantly occurred to me that dumping sand on fire would smother the blaze.

No! Gaara wasn't here, and I'd managed to—_almost_—avoid thinking about him—it was too confusing, too _agonizing_, to poke, yet irresistible, like a healing wound—for the whole vacation. It wouldn't do to wish for him now.

"Abura-kun," I whispered urgently, "we have to. I promise, I won't leave you in the dark."

Finally, his eyes focused on me. "Cheh," he snorted with a hint of his old self. "You, not leaving me in the dark? That's a laugh."

-o-

It was someone's Water Style Jutsu that saved us in the end. The liquid poured onto the blaze, dampening it; Abura stiffened, then relaxed, and his eyes glazed over. I rested a hand on his shoulder and let the chakra flow, just in case.

Flickering, hissing, writhing in rage, the flames died.

Abura sagged back against a wall. Only one other building had caught, and no one had suffered any injuries, something that sent waves of relief coursing through me. Equally relieving was the fact that we'd remained unnoticed and un_blamed_.

I was, of course, counting on Isane keeping her mouth shut, but I was relatively certain she would.

"Abura-kun," I whispered. He straightened up, opening his eyes, and looked at me.

"Cheh, time to go."

"Yeah. Come one."

He didn't want to lean on my shoulder, but he didn't have enough energy to walk on his own. I pretended I didn't notice as we headed for our temporary home.

-o-

I handed Abura a lit candle I'd purchased in a random shop and said, "We're going out."

"Are you asking me on a date?" he snickered wearily. "Cheh, sorry, not interested."

I threw him an irritated glance and snatched the candle back; the flame flickered dangerously. "If you're energetic enough to make cruel comments, you can make your own fire." He scowled at me, and I held it out.

"Say you're sorry."

"Cheh."

"Close enough."

Once the candle was safely back in his hands, one palm cupped almost lovingly around the flame, he looked up at me from his position on the floor. "Cheh, now tell me what's going on."

"Isane-chan invited us out to dinner with her squad," I explained.

"Cheh, you're mistaken. She just invited Eiri-kun."

"No, _all_ of us. Including Chie-sensei—and her sensei's going to be there, too." I grinned excitedly. "I haven't met her yet, have you? I'm curious."

"Cheh, no, when would I have done that? Did you find _anything_ when you were snooping around?"

I shrugged. "Nothing new. Bunch of ropes in Isane's stuff, poisons in Onaji's…"

"Poisons."

"What?"

"_Poisons_," he repeated, rolling his eyes as if I were an idiot.

"Are you surprised?" I asked, uncomprehending.

"Cheh, _no_. _Poisons_."

"You really need to work on putting your thoughts into words there, Abura-kun."

He gritted his teeth. "Poisons are the _perfect_ assassin's weapon."

I smirked at him. "I thought you didn't believe the Kumo-nin were our assassins."

"Cheh."

Shrugging, I turned around to leave. "That's a distinct possibility. But then what are they doing in Konoha? Come on, we're leaving now. No need to dress up. And you can bring the candle."

-o-

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeee, Kori-chan, I'm soooooooooooooooooooooo glad you could come!" Isane squealed, choking me with another hug.

Despite my strangling status, I grinned. "Don't you mean you're glad _Eiri-kun_ could come?"

She pulled back, looking offended. "Kori-chan! How could you say such a thing!"

Snickering, I gestured widely at Shushuya, the restaurant we were eating at, having judged Ichiraku to be too small to hold all eight of us. "After you," I said sweetly; laughing, she pranced inside.

Chie-sensei was already inside, seated at a separate, smaller table near ours. Across from her was a tall woman with sandy-blonde, shoulder-length hair; her back was to us, making further details impossible establish. Despite the lack of information, I felt pretty confident in guessing her to be Isane's sensei.

"Hit-sensei!" Isane cried and bounced across the restaurant towards them. Eiri was already there, digging into the wood of the table under the disapproving eye of a waiter—I expected there'd be a bit extra on our bill, and wondered why no one had tried to break Eiri of this habit yet—while looking rather dazed, despite—or perhaps because of—Onaji chattering at top speeds. Hitotsu looked bored; occasionally, he reached over to pull Onaji back into his seat, as the poison master frequently hopped up to perch precariously on the back of his seat.

Grinning, Isane leapt over the table and shoved Onaji over onto Hitotsu. Irritably, he shoved Onaji back; Isane squealed with glee and pushed again, but ended up shoved against Eiri in the ensuing fight. The weapons master was giggling madly and attempting to move Onaji, too, but he wasn't having much luck.

After a minute, Hitotsu got up and moved to the other side of the table.

Isane pouted and propelled the scrawny Inuka into the spot previously occupied by the larger one. Abura and I walked over in time to hear Hitotsu mutter, "_You're_ pulling him off the seat back then."

Suppressing a smirk—badly—Abura slid in next to Hitotsu and I sat on the end. My foot collided with something large and solid under the table; I glanced under to see a sword obviously belonging to the broad-shouldered Inuka.

No one really seemed in a hurry to order, and I didn't mind; we were all having too much fun. Onaji had apparently sampled some new plant he'd found in Konoha's forest, and it was what was causing him to frequently leap up and down; he was talking too fast for anyone to understand at the moment, so he was pretty much ignored. Isane introduced her sensei as "Hit-sensei" only, so Chie-sensei gave the more specific, "Haruka Hitomi"; I kept throwing surreptitious glances at her for about ten minutes, trying to learn something. Despite the commonality of ninja sandals, the woman was completely barefoot; at one point in the conversation, Isane leaned over and confided that she hated shoes and shocks, but her closet at home was filled with both. I couldn't help laughing at this.

It wasn't long before Eiri and Isane were engaged in an excited conversation on the merits of weapons and traps. Around the table, the rest of us threw in our thoughts also.

"But I always get caught in them!" Onaji protested on the subject of traps.

"You should be more like your brother," Isane said cheerfully. "He only gets caught once in a while. _You _get caught twice as much, if not more!" She paused. "Maybe I should start keeping count…"

"Maybe you should stop putting them up unnecessarily," put in Hitotsu darkly.

"Or tell me how to stay out of them," pouted Onaji.

"But I don't wanna!"

Shortly thereafter, Isane and Eiri were discussing methods of combing weapons and traps and were soon building their own on the table. I buried my face in my hands, laughing, as input echoed from the others—including the jōnin.

"Put a kunai there."

"Cheh, it should be a shuriken."

"Nooooooo, senbon!"

"We need more rope."

"Where do you keep all that?"

"Don't answer that."

"Awwww…"

"Are you _sure_ you don't have fleas?"

"_Yes._"

"Psst, he's lying."

"Stop spreading rumors."

"It's not a rumor!"

"No, it's a lie."

"Ehhhhhh, where does this one go?"

Eventually, a waiter did show up with food we'd forgotten we ordered, forcing us to either disassemble our trap or switch tables. Unsurprisingly, we chose the latter.

Our bill was ridiculous.

I can't imagine why.

-o-

A/N: Of course, you probably all hate me. Spaced out filler chapters, not replying to my reviews or PMs… I love you anyway. XD

On another note, I received a few reviews that informed me I made a terrible week better by posting. These made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm glad I could help you guys. -bursts into tears-

(NOTE: I'm officially working on a Bakura fanfic. Don't kill me, okay? I haven't forgotten you guys. XD)


	39. A Fool

A/N: This _was_ going to be one big 8-page chapter, for which you would have all loved me for life, but, well… because of chapter 40… I needed to split this up. I.e., so that chapter 40 can _be_ chapter 40, instead of chapter 39. You'll see.

BUT! The moment you've all been waiting for. :D Gaara's back.

-o-

We went west out of Konoha, heading straight back to Suna. I trailed behind the rest of my squad, hidden in the shadows as a rearguard. Thus, _I _was the one who was quiet and observant… and _I_ was the one who saw the few grains of sand scattered across the branches.

Abura was busy teasing Eiri about Isane and Chie-sensei was up ahead. Besides, I was invisible at the moment; they wouldn't even notice.

They didn't need a rearguard anyway.

--

The trees ended abruptly; I dropped to the ground, but stayed within the dappling of the leaves on the grass. I could see Gaara across the open ground, along with someone who looked familiar… Oh yes, Rock Lee, the one Gaara had crushed while I was… _sick_… on Onaji's poisons. There was one other person there, too, a silver-haired man I didn't recognize.

Leaning against the tree was highly unsatisfactory, let me tell you. The silver-haired man shot something from his fingertips and Gaara blocked it in an eruption of sand before I lost patience and slipped across the open ground.

The grass wasn't tall enough to hide me, but nobody noticed a shadow gliding along with the wind stop a short distance behind Gaara and Lee.

Their mistake.

"Not that I hold a grudge… but you really did a number on me," said Rock Lee brightly. Having not heard the rest of the conversation, I couldn't be entirely sure what he was trying to prove by this statement, but it seemed overly obvious to me.

"I see…" murmured Gaara, eyes on the silver-haired shinobi.

"Anyway, why are you here?" Lee demanded, asking a very good question.

His pale eyes slid back to the taijutsu specialist. "I owe Konoha," he said slowly, "a great debt."

And from the look in his eyes, there was only one shinobi in Konoha he owed that debt to.

Lee seemed to have no answer to this; he simply raised one bleeding, bandaged hand and took a step forward. Cutting him off, Gaara said, "I'll handle this."

"No!" protested Lee foolishly; why would anyone refuse Gaara's help? "Please, back me up instead!" He leapt forward, and a moment later, went crashing to the ground, sand coiled around his ankle. A protest flung itself from his lips, but then, so did a moan of pain, resulting in Gaara informing him that he was in no shape to fight.

"**I'll handle this**," he repeated firmly.

And I couldn't help but stand and stare.

I'd known Gaara had changed. I'd seen it, _experienced _it, and then stood there and talked to him while he blatantly _hadn't _killed me.

But here he was, saving _someone else's_ life.

This was a different person.

A _different person_.

But one that I still loved.

The silver-haired man was just standing there, watching them speak while Lee explained their opponent's skills. The bones protruding from his chest slid back inside—and without thinking, I'd swept several shuriken from their holster and flung them toward the enemy.

He wasn't expecting them, but he had several meters to see them coming and get out of the way. My bigger issue, on the other hand, was the fact that Gaara's sand was sweeping toward me in a wave, ready to attack—and possibly kill—whoever had snuck up behind him.

I dropped the jutsu without hesitation and flung my arms up as if they could protect me, shouting, "Gaara-san!"

The sand halted abruptly and he turned around, eyes widening as they caught sight of me. "You…"

"You were in the Chûnin Exams!" Lee proclaimed.

"Yes," I muttered, wondering why he felt the need to announce it. Gaara frowned slightly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly.

"I was in Konoha." I hesitated. "I—" _abandoned my team to follow a grain or two of sand that I had no proof would actually lead to you_. The truth, but not what I wanted to share with him. Then, _I could have been walking straight into a trap. Oh Sand—one of these days, I _am_ going to walk straight into a trap._

Okay, so that was _not_ going to by my answer. But then again, 'I was looking for you'—again—seemed a _little bit_ suspicious anyway.

Luckily, I was saved.

Our silver-haired opponent leapt forward abruptly, flinging what appeared to be his fingers bones at us as he twisted through the air. I pointed quickly, and Gaara shifted his attention away from me, to my great relief.

However, he made no move to avoid the oncoming projectiles. Not until they were centimeters from his face—and shattered on a wave of gold.

He was the master of tranquility, of motionless killing. This silver-haired shinobi who danced and flipped and spun was no match for the writhing river of sand that reached to devour him at every turn.

"A foolish stage name," he hissed, coming to a halt at last. "Reliant only on sand."

But when _sand_ rained down from above and he found himself unable to evade, he found out just how foolish Gaara was.

Not. At. All.

"So long as I have sand," said the redhead coldly, "I can do anything."

And then the golden dust snaked across the bone-wielder's body, smothering him in a deadly blanket. I smiled, pleased, as Lee cried, "You got him!"

"Not just yet," Gaara murmured, and clenched his fist.

Blood fountained out of the golden coffin in little bursts of crimson. A moment later, a trembling, tattooed hand forced its way from the sandy depths.

The rest of the body followed.

An ebony maze etched itself across the shinobi's bare skin; solid ivory showed in ragged patches where Gaara's sand had eaten away at the fragile membrane above. He was hunched over, breathing heavily, blood trailing across his body.

"More bones, huh? He's a real freak, isn't he…"

I could barely restrain a snort of hilarity at the irony as Lee responded, "He's certainly a nuisance."

"That pressure was a feat," growled the enemy shinobi, his voice spine-chilling and… inhuman. "Without this layer I created underneath my skin, I would have been dead meat for sure."

He raised his eyes from the ground to stare us—or rather, Gaara—down; each word was driven home with the image of his teeth grinding them out as he warned, "I underestimated you… And yet, your sand won't hold me twice."

Without a flicker of emotion, Gaara set himself and drew an ocean from the ground.

A desert's worth of sand burst from below in a massive, unstoppable tsunami of gritty gold. My breath caught in my throat at the sheer, deadly beauty of it—

—And I wondered what it looked like from the other side.

The bone-wielder could not have escaped; he cried out as he was swept away by the surging golden flood. Trees fell beneath the grainy assault, leaving nothing behind of the forest but crushed leaves and shattered wood.

"You… did it…" Lee said in wonderment.

"Not yet," said Gaara grimly. He dropped to one knee, burying his hands in the rough, shining ocean, and sent chakra spinning throughout the sea.

There was a pause, a silence. I held my breath.

"Won't he ever give up?" Gaara demanded darkly.

Automatically, two sets of eyes shifted across the desert, where the silver-haired shinobi was climbing back to his feet beneath the shadows of a fallen tree. This time, though, there was something different.

"What is that?" Lee asked, robust eyebrows drawn downward.

Gaara stretched his hands outward and swirled sand around in a second sand coffin, but a spiked, grayish monster burst from the prison and raced toward us. A wall of sand rose to block our opponent, but the bone-wielding monster kept running, colliding headlong with the barrier. Breath catching in my throat, I started forward as Gaara was flung back, but the sand rose to catch him, reaching up to embrace his falling body.

"Is this all there is to your so-called total defense?" the monster growled. "What a joke."

Gaara gazed back at him, eyes chilled, revealing the cracks spreading across his face.

"I see… So you coat yourself with sand…"

There was no response to this statement, and no pause was given for one to be made; Lee teleported behind the silver-haired creature, shouting, "He's not your only opponent! I'm here, too!"

Furious that he had acted before me, I too leapt forward, kunai in hands. My taijutsu wasn't even remotely close to Lee's in quality, but it was adequate for distraction. Lee scored a hit or two, and my blade sliced along one bone-hard arm before the monster's tail swept us both backward into the sea of sand. Lee landed with a grunt, and I with a squeak of pain; while Lee remained down, I scrambled immediately to my feet.

"This sand's a nuisance," snarled the creature. "You're the first to go… Gaara!"

-o-

I was going to post this, like, three days ago. But… I kept remembering at, say, one in the morning as I hit "shut down." Whoops. Sorry. ;;

I want to apologize to anyone I promised Gaara in the LAST chapter to. I did something really wonky with my chapter numbers (see above: splitting up), and it really confused me with the content. So I really did think Gaara was IN ch. 35. But he wasn't. Except for a brief thought. Sorry. ;; Sorry!

OMG, my reviews are piling up! Gahhhh! I'll never get through them all! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!


	40. A Spine

A/N: You know how many reviews I have sitting, unanswered, in my inbox? _Seventy-two_, plus ten PMs. I love you guys. -wipes away tear- Y'all are so amazing it's not even funny. -mass glompage- And to those of you who have made it known that I don't have to reply to your reviews: Trust me, I'm going to. It's my way of showing my appreciation. If I wasn't gonna reply, I would have deleted it out of my inbox. So they'll come. Maybe many months late, but they'll come.

On a totally random note… I DROVE A CAR!! -dies-

Also, Liz has updated her fanfiction again! If you haven't seen it yet... WHY THE HECK DON'T YOU HAVE IT ON ALERT ALREADY?! I've already told you it's canon! XD www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/4139805/3/Trust

-o-

He bent his head toward the ground and reached toward his back, where something white protruded. It took me a minute to realize that it was his _spine_, dripping fluids as he yanked it from his back. I felt just a little bit sick.

"Tessenka no Mai! Iron Flower Dance!"

He swung it toward Gaara, but a cushion of sand prevented it from sinking its barbs into the redhead's skin. The bone-wielder's unoccupied arm lengthened and swirled into a massive ebony spike, crackling and hardening. "My bones have calcified as far as they'll go," he explained menacingly. "They'll pierce through your body along with the sand shield."

_They won't_, I vowed, darting in close in time to see the creature coughing blood. Eyes hardening, I brought my hands together and sent the Shadow Possession questing for control just as he drew his arm back to strike.

It worked; he froze. I dared to open my eyes, wondering what I could afford to do. If Gaara killed this creature now, I didn't know what would happen to me. Maybe the whiplash would kill me, too. I clenched my fist, then slowly began opening it, hoping to force the silver-haired monster to release his spine and let Gaara free.

But instead, a fat, sandy statue faintly resembling a raccoon swelled up from the ground and formed around the length of bone. It startled me, and I lost control of the possession—but I had given Gaara time to defend himself. That was something. That was everything.

Lights flickered in my vision as the creature's tail collided with my again, but I didn't let it stop me from struggling to my feet as the bony pike flashed forward. Gaara had done so much—he was running out of chakra—

He needed mine.

I staggered sideways as the spike plunged deep into the raccoon's stomach, spraying sand everywhere. I was aiming toward my Gaara, but my walk wasn't steady enough, and I was too close when the giant white thorn shattered.

Shards of bone flew past me; instinctively, I raised my arm to protect my eyes, and whimpered as I felt a multitude of tiny cuts open all over my skin. Blood trailed over my arms and down my face, but I moved forward, still heading toward Gaara—but trying my best to go _around_ the monster.

"Very solid," he murmured.

"I pulled together the densest minerals in the soil," Gaara explained coolly, "used my chakra to apply pressure, and kneaded them into the sand." The bone-wielder had no answer, so the redhead went on, "That move of yours… It's a kekkei genkai, yes?"

"It is of the Kaguya clan… A power I alone possess."

"So you're the last of the Kaguya… That means today the clan perishes."

I wasn't sure—I was too far away, and too dizzy, to be sure—but I thought I heard a hint of regret in those words. Maybe Gaara had extinguished one too many clans already. Maybe he didn't want to do that anymore.

"Indeed it may be so," the Kaguya agreed. "My body is ravaged with illness… My days on earth… are numbered… and yet… I will not be extinguished. For I am not alone."

He drew himself up, no longer hunching over, though he was weary and wounded. "I am an arm of Lord Orochimaru's ambition. I carried out my part. For that, I shall remain forever in his heart."

No one noticed as I drew even with the bone-wielder and still staggered on. Well, if anyone noticed, they made no sign; and Gaara had raised his hand inside his shield, drawing the last dregs of his chakra together. I sped up.

"Orochimaru brainwashed you," he murmured. "How sad."

I took a few last, awkward steps, and lay my hand on Gaara's shoulder.

He flinched, losing control for a moment, almost allowing the Kaguya to escape. I was doing all I could to bleed my chakra into his, and briefly, he turned to meet my gaze.

Then he shifted his attention back to our enemy and dragged the Kaguya down.

A whirlpool of gold formed around the silver-haired creature, drawing him farther and farther in. "You are indeed formidable," he noted, without too much regret, I thought.

"I'm sucking you down and burying you three hundred meters under the earth," said Gaara evenly. "With that sand pressure on every inch of your body, you won't be able to move a finger."

The Kaguya said nothing as he was dragged into the depths.

"You did it," said Lee. "This time, you… really did it."

Gaara said nothing. I said nothing, only drew my hand from his shoulder and let it fall to my side.

"Sawarabi no Mai!" thundered the whirlpool. "Bracken Dance!"

Trees—no, bones—spurted from the earth, raging upward in an ivory forest of death. Alarm registered on everyone's faces—and then we floated high above the barren white trees, hovering on supports of sand.

"You… you saved me," gasped Lee, sounding about as surprised as I felt. Although I was also relieved—that I had been remembered. "I never imagined you could do something like this."

"This is the same old sand I'm always throwing around," murmured Gaara. "It's just in how you use it."

He gazed down on the winter forest below, eyes drifting about for any remaining signs of the Kaguya. "He was one tough opponent, but that should be the end of him… He'll never get out of that."

"I'm not brainwashed…" snarled the same dark voice that belonged to the Kaguya creature. "He's the only one who truly understands."

We twisted, the three of us, as the bone spike lunged for Gaara. Without thinking, I let my chakra flow, catching the monster in a stronger genjutsu than I had ever used before.

He froze, blood leaking from his mouth and over his face, gathering at his chin and dripping to the ground. At first, I thought I'd killed him—but then I remembered that he'd been sick before, coughing crimson, and maybe I'd only brought on the inevitable.

But I had saved Gaara. I'd saved him. That had to count for something.

No—for everything.

-o-

I tried to leave immediately after, but Gaara caught my wrist in a band of sand, holding me fast and not letting me flee. Cringing, dreading another conversation entirely free of lies, I turned back.

"Yes, Gaara-san?"

"I want a straight answer this time… Who are you?"

"A—Akashi Takara, genin of the Hidden Sand Village." I gave a half-hearted salute and tried to leave again. I found myself tethered to the ground with a ribbon of gold as Gaara and Lee collapsed against a two of the few remaining trees. Resigning myself to my fate, I sank to the ground as well, having nowhere to go.

"He had me," said Gaara quietly.

"That's not true," protest Lee. My master always used to say… a big part of skill is luck."

"You mean that meddlesome trainer?" murmured the redhead.

"He wasn't meddling!" Lee shouted. "He just knew I wasn't strong enough, was all! Don't talk about my master that way!"

Gaara was silent for a moment, musing. "You're the same, then," he said at last. "When you feel the honor of your idol under scrutiny… you become enraged… as if it were your own honor being questioned. The more precious your idol is to you…" He hesitated, and from my position nearby, I could see in his eyes as he worked over everything he'd seen.

"…The harder you fight for him."

_That's true_, I wanted to say, because it was. I'd experienced it firsthand.

Idly, I wondered if Gaara would ever know that. Would ever know that _he_ was the idol that someone fought for.

No… I stayed in the shadows. I didn't tell anyone my secrets—or anyone else's secrets, for that matter.

"He also," added Gaara bemusedly, "reminds me of Uzumaki Naruto."

Both Lee and I looked up at this as Gaara went on, "Still… Just because someone's precious doesn't mean he is good."

That struck a little too close to home, just for a minute, and I looked away. Gaara was good now, I knew, but…

"I can't see how anyone would think someone bad was so precious," protested Lee, and I snorted incredulously. Both of them turned their eyes to me and I shrank back as if threatened.

"I disagree," said Gaara slowly, eyes not straying from mine. Soon, I had to look away; his gaze was too intense. "Even if you know he's evil… you just can't overcome your own solitude."

That was true. That was definitely, definitely true—but it wasn't the only reason to idolize someone who wasn't exactly a saint.

I didn't say it out loud, though. Even though Gaara seemed to be inquiring, looking for my opinion with that driving, icy gaze, I didn't say a word.

I was too busy struggling to keep my jaw from dropping at the longest speech I had ever heard him make.

Outside of, of course, the one where he explained his traumatic past to Uzumaki Naruto and Nara Shikamaru.

-o-

A/N: I wanted to say something on the topic of Takara's personality. Is it consistent? I mean, the others, I work hard to keep them IC, but Takara… I just write what comes to me. It's like… Takara doesn't talk the way I talk, she talks the way I think. :D I suppose that's a personality in and of itself, but… is it consistent? Does she do things she wouldn't do? Or is it just… her?

On a sadder, but more hilarious note, I realized that Abura-kun is an anagram of 'un-Bakura'. This makes me incredibly sad. D: D: It's made even more ironic by the fact that their birthdays are in the same month. XD


	41. A Prisoner

A/N: This is a ridiculously short chapter. Get over it. It's longer than Chapter 1 was. XD

But! This is for all you TakaxGaara fans out there... (Are any of you NOT TakaxGaara fans at this point? XD Why are you reading this, then? Or are you only in it for the InoxOna?)

-o-

Rock Lee went home soon after. I tried to do the same, but Gaara insisted on escorting the injured shinobi back to Konoha—and apparently, he still wanted to talk to me, because I was silently given the choice to either walk along or be dragged.

I chose to walk.

Of course, I could've—if one previous experience was enough to go by—melded with the shadows and slipped through my pretty gold chains. I didn't think of it, though. I don't think I _wanted_ to think of it.

Even when we reached Konoha and Gaara turned around to head back to Suna, I wasn't released. I could feel the gritty manacle chafing my wrist, drawing blood and greedily sucking it away, and I hoped we weren't going to walk the whole way home. I was tired already, and that would take days.

He didn't talk to me.

I only relaxed a little, but I'd been fearing a wave of questions, and their conspicuous absence was a relief. At that point, I was so choked up it was unlikely I would have been able to respond coherently anyway.

He stayed silent just long enough for me to grow almost comfortable.

"You are from Suna."

Trembling, I indicated the _hitai-ate_ around my waist. "A-as you can see."

"_Hitai-ate_ are… easily fabricated." Silence, for a moment. "You…" He seemed as unsure of his words as I was. "Might be lying."

I should have said something about how, just a few months ago, my squad and I were on the same mission as his—though with different roles to play. But I was reluctant to remind him of those nights, those brushes with death, and the frequent assurances that he could kill me _after_ the Exams.

One that other hand, I should have said _anything _but what I did.

"I can't lie to you," I mumbled. And then I glanced up, horrified, because the fact that I couldn't lie didn't mean I had to give away information for free.

Though he wasn't looking at me, I saw something unreadable flicker in his eyes. "…Why?"

I struggled with that one in silence for a long time. "I just can't," I said finally. He didn't press it.

"You're always around…" he murmured, and I froze, panicking. No… He couldn't figure it out…

If he did, he didn't say anything. He left it at that, and we returned to Suna in silence.

But he still didn't let me go.

-o-

Suna's rocky foyer loomed before us, and I stopped dead. I was dragged along a few steps, stumbling through the shifting desert sands, before Gaara realized my sudden resistance and turned back.

"Let go," I pleaded.

His eyes didn't even flicker. "Why?"

"I can't… go home like this. Like a—a traitor. A missing-nin. A prisoner dragged back to trial. Please."

Silence. A hesitation. I was hoping—

"Will you run away?"

Dang.

"I… might," I admitted. "But I'd only run home. Back to my squad."

He was still and silent for a very long time. It felt like the sun itself pressed down on my back as I waited; I was still dressed for Konoha weather, I realized, not open desert.

Finally, agonizingly, the sand uncoiled itself from my wrist. Just barely, I kept myself from rubbing it, but I don't think Gaara missed the dried blood crusted to my hand.

A moment later, he turned and walked away into the shadows of the cliffs. I followed him until he stepped into the pass, and then I slipped into the darkness and trailed him all the way home.

-o-

I didn't expect Temari to be anywhere nearby, so when I slid back into existence and headed for the training ground to find my team, I wasn't looking out for her. On the other hand, why should I have been? Even when I did see her, leaning against the building, all I had to do was walk past her. It's all I _did_ do.

Until she called out to me.

"What does my brother mean to you?" she demanded, drawing me to a halt. Stiffening, I turned to her and smiled as sweetly as I could.

"Which one?"

She glared at me, narrowing dark green eyes. "The youngest one."

Determined to make this as difficult as possible, I looked confused and said, "That's Kankuro-san, right?"

"No."

"Ohhh…" I paused a moment, deciding quickly. I didn't lie to Gaara, that didn't mean I couldn't lie to his siblings.

"Gaara-sama is a shinobi of this village," I said firmly, and if she was listening at all, the honorific gave me away.

I think she was startled to hear _-sama_ tacked on to the end of Gaara's name, though. She didn't say anything else until I was halfway down the street.

"Wait," she ordered, and I turned around to see her straighten up. "Baki-sensei has ordered to see you."

"What are you, his errand girl?" I inquired, throat drying up as anxiety seized me. It had been more than a month since I'd told him off, and I'd been hoping he'd forget. (Ha, not likely—but I could hope.)

Her eyes flashed. "I volunteered."

I was pretty sure she meant so she could talk to me first, as she had, but considering the length of our conversation…

Well, pretty sure.

-o-

A/N: I'm not sure when you guys'll get the next chapter, but I'm gonna try…


	42. A Punishment

A/N: …Guys, I am so, so sorry. I finally gave up on my guest-writer, because she stopped responding to my messages asking about the chapter… and you guys have been amazing. Not only patient—or at least, _pretending_ to be patient XD—but sticking with me, supporting me, and continuing to send me messages telling me how much you love this story and want the next chapter. I couldn't wait anymore. I had to write another one. I had to give you this. ;;; I don't know how good it is—I wrote the majority of it on my way home from a two-week vacation in Alaska, and dang, I'm as tired as Takara, which probably explains a lot of the rambling, meandering path her thoughts take… So I dunno about quality. But I tried to make it long enough to count.

-o-

Let me tell you, despite his odd choice of head garment, Baki scowling down at me was a pretty intimidating sight. Submissively _not_ meeting his eyes—as if that would somehow lessen my punishment, right—I frantically ran through my limited knowledge of the Sand Sibs' sensei.

But let's face it. I stal—_followed_ Gaara. Not his siblings, not his teacher. I didn't know much about this guy or what he was going to do to me. I didn't _think_ he could, say, take away my _hitai-ate_ and tell me I was no longer a shinobi—that seemed a bit dramatic anyway—but who knew?

It was very, very hard not to fade into the shadows and flee. In fact, as I stood there biting my lip and staring at the ground, I seriously considered it. I even went so far as to ready the necessary chakra. My skin was definitely darkening as I started to draw the shadows across my face.

But I stopped short of disappearing. Maybe he wouldn't be able to find me as I fled, but he would catch up to me later. Probably my punishment would just be worse if I ran.

"Akashi Takara."

Just barely, I managed not to flinch beneath the harsh words. He sounded _very_ restrained, and I wondered if he were going to explode. Did Baki explode? That's the kind of thing I didn't know. That's the kind of thing I _needed_ to know.

"Yes." No room for lies there. Was that better or worse? If I could lie my way out of it… would I be caught?

No. I was never caught.

Unless, of course, I was…

"Do you _know,_" he gritted, "why you are here?"

"Er, I have a vague idea…" Oh, what the hell. "Well, actually, Sir, no, I don't." I put on my best innocent look, although I don't think it covered my guilt and apprehension. It probably didn't help that I was slowly getting greyer. Not on purpose, mind you—I _was_ trying to stop it; using chakra up on something that would only get me in more trouble seemed like a bad idea to me—but anxiety was fading me.

"You don't." I didn't think he was buying it. "So you need to be reminded." Shouldn't being good at acting go hand-in-hand with being good at lying? Yeah? Maybe?

"Yes, Sir, that would be nice."

His visible eye narrowed to the point where it was almost closed; he also seemed to be quivering slightly. I guessed that was anger, not a sudden wave of cold in the middle of the desert.

"Come this way," he growled, and stalked off. I blinked.

Temari started walking when Baki did; as she drew even with me, I sidled up to her. "Should I be worried?" I asked innocently.

She stared at me incredulously. Disbelief was written all over her face, but I think it was more at the incredible stupidity of the question rather than at my act. Maybe it really was working and Baki was just clever.

Or maybe he'd had too much experience with thirteen-year-old shinobi attempting to avoid punishment.

"Hm, I'll take that as a yes," I murmured to Temari, and followed Baki.

He seemed to be walking very stiffly. I took that as a Bad Sign. I was pretty sure he couldn't—couldn't as in wasn't allowed, not as in was incapable—hurt me, but… I _did_ insult him. Blatantly. With witnesses.

Possibly I should learn to control my tongue when Gaara was involved. It's not like I had trouble with it the rest of the time.

"Where are we going?" I asked with perfectly honest curiosity. I received no reply; I guess the prisoner wasn't allowed to be the interrogator.

Well, I supposed I would find out eventually, wouldn't I?

-o-

Idly, I wondered if being behind the desk made the Sand jōnin feel more secure, and then I pondered the implications of that. He wasn't scared of me, so why would he need security? Gaara was never insecure…. Or rather, Gaara was always terminally insecure on the inside—and so, so certain without.

It took Baki's bark of "Akashi" to draw me out of my wandering thoughts. I was dead-tired from walking, and chakra exhaustion was starting to catch up with me. I mean, I wasn't running on empty, but I was getting close to it.

"Yes?" I said pleasantly, glancing around. While I hadn't been paying attention, Temari had been sent away, it seemed, and I was alone in the office with a jōnin who appeared quite likely to be exploding at a moment's notice. Perhaps there was no room for false amiability. It only seemed to infuriate him more anyway.

Ah, well, you win some, you lose some.

"Are you aware of why you were here?" At this point, it was entirely likely he was still asking the same darn question in an attempt to control himself. I really didn't think it was working.

"Are you aware you're repeating yourself, Sir? The answer really hasn't changed." Silently, I congratulated myself on the perfect mix of condescension and courtesy. I was going to get my skin handed to me on a plate, Baki was turning redder with every passing second, and I was _still_ enjoying tormenting the hell out of him.

I was _really_ tired.

His fist came down on the desk. Hard. I flinched.

The door opened.

I twisted around in my seat, desperate to know who would _dare_ barge in on _Baki_—yeah, he was _not_ in a good mood, did I mention?—just in time to see Gaara trudge in. He spotted me and stopped dead, staring, brow furrowed.

"What… are you doing here?" Possibly I was starting to unnerve him with being everywhere. All the time.

"I'm always here," I quipped inanely, smiling nervously and cringing against the overwhelming urge to disappear. I still felt it was _wrong_ to be so… so… blatantly visible. Those pale green eyes bit too deep when they looked at me.

"Is there something I can help you with, Gaara?" Baki demanded, his voice dripping acid at being interrupted—but still dancing the edge of civility; _he_ didn't want to be killed any more than anyone else. Would Gaara kill his sensei? So many questions I had today… I needed sleep. Badly, I reflected. Had Gaara found it necessary to drag me over hill and dale—well, through tree and sand—instead of letting me go on my own? Apparently. Well, I was paying for it with a complete inability to concentrate. Not a good thing when facing down a furious jōnin and a possibly-murderous demon-bearer.

The red-haired shinobi's eyes focused on his sensei. "I came to learn about—her." His eyes flickered to me; I flinched, readying the dregs of my chakra. "To check… records… and she's… here. Again." He was speaking slowly, as if trying to solve the puzzle as he went.

I chose not to speak, opting against drawing even more attention to myself. In fact, I wished desperately to direct it _away_.

I got lucky.

Gaara returned his focus to Baki and asked directly, "Why is she here?" Apparently, he was fed up with a lack of answers and a stalker.

So I executed my decision.

Pleading furiously with the gods, I wrapped myself in shadows and vaulted from my seat, aiming for the wall. Unfortunately, weary as I was, I didn't quite make it; some body part—foot, arm, who knew?—caught on the arm of the chair, pulling it with me. I landed on my knees, both I and the furniture crashing to the ground—how's that for not drawing attention to myself? Scrambling to my feet, I made a dash toward safety, praying I could summon enough chakra to let me slip through it, as I had done with the ropes back in Isane's room.

No such luck. Well, I _might_ have been able to do it, but I found myself blanketed in sand before I got too far. Either I was more visible than I thought or the red-haired shinobi was a very good judge of distance. Closing my eyes tightly, sighing, I whispered, "Gaara-sama, I'm tired. Please, let me go home."

I heard Baki emit a strangled sound of fury. He didn't like that idea. Obviously, neither did Gaara, as I received no reply except a sharp "_Why are you here?_"

"I was in the course of punishing her for an offense," Baki responded coldly, his voice almost a hiss. Abruptly, I shut my mouth, as he'd replied for me, though Gaara didn't seem satisfied with the answer.

"What did she do?" he demanded, the undercurrent of a growl running through his tone. Tightly bound in his prison of sand, I shivered.

"She—"

But the demon didn't let him finish. "You… you are trying to punish her for… saving me," he hissed, fury rising in his cold seafoam eyes.

"Er," I felt the need to put in, "I didn't save you, Gaara-sama."

"Perhaps not." I couldn't tell if my interruption further infuriated him or calmed him a touch—which, I'll admit, seemed highly unlikely to me, but his voice was quieter. More dangerous? "But you… fought…"

"Gaara," said Baki impatiently. "The fact remains that she spoke out—"

"I was _there_," Gaara growled, and it was far more terrifying than if he had shouted the words at his sensei. "Nearly unconscious with pain, perhaps… but there…" His voice had almost dropped to a whisper, a whisper of pure ice that sent shudders dancing down my spine. "I didn't understand, but she… _defended_ me." Abruptly, he turned wide, startled eyes to me where I was bound, presumably nearly invisible, and I couldn't stop the feeling that Gaara without emotions had been far less scary than a demon who had them—and didn't understand them at all.

"Why?" It seemed the only word he could force out. "_Why?"_

"I don't know," I whispered, even though I really did, but could never put it into words and didn't know what else to say.

-o-

A/N: Well, like I've said before, I'm now wading my way into the murky of depths of off-screen Gaara as he wrestles with emotions and a puzzling and infuriating stalker… I thought for a little bit that he was getting out-of-character, and then I realized: I can do this! I can change him! He's changing, and it's time for him to change. o: Yeah.

How'm I doing? XD

OK, now that I'm back to writing this, I'm obviously going to be, well, _writing this_ again. And I'm glad to be. :) BUT… It won't be every-day chapters. Probably not even every-two-day chapters. I'm going to _try_ to go with once-a-week chapters. Is that acceptable? (If you're going to say no, it's not acceptable, you want them more often, well… it's a great boost to my self-esteem, but too bad. XD)

My folder of email is up to 97—that's almost 100, in case you didn't know :o—which means I have a _lot_ of reviews and PM's I haven't replied to. ;;; It doesn't help that I was on a two-week vacation with almost no internet (I got it about twice the whole trip, and with a time-limit); like I said, I'm on my way home, but in a week, I leave for _another_ vacation. Yeah. Am I gonna have time to reply to my messages?

…I can only try.

**And now I'm home and I'm posting this and then I'm going to bed, thank you very much. :D**


	43. A Wall

A/N: Guess what? Obsession is back. Oh yes, Obsession is back and I am loving it. :D I actually wrote two chapters in one day. Wow. Hadn't done that in a while.

As a welcome back, there is… Fanart!! Le gasp!! Actually, it's technically not fanart, because _I_ drew it—yes, I finally drew my own character! It's a miracle!!

ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/33-Expectations-93323078

Also, Liz has drawn a most amazing picture of Isane and Takara, but her internet is down, so she doesn't know when she'll be able to post it. Hopefully next week. :)

Speaking of next week, Friday seems like a good day to post chapters, so that's the day I'm gonna do it. :D However, next week, I shall be on vacation (again), and I don't know if I'll have internet. If I _do_, I shall log on and post chapter 41… if I don't… we'll see. I'll probably just post on Friday, not the day I get back.

-o-

Baki had lost all control of the situation.

That is, of course, assuming he even had any in the first place. I think he did, but all vestiges of _that_ were gone from the moment Gaara opened the door.

Ah, well. I have to admit, I wasn't too terribly upset about it. In fact, if I hadn't been so sands-cursed exhausted, I would have been filled with an overwhelming glee. I was going to get it later—I was willing to bet Baki had a _long_ memory for stuff like this—but oh, was it worth it right then. He had long ago exceeded the amount of fury he could hold in check, but with Gaara standing there staring him down—well, his cold green eyes were on _me_, but it was almost _like_ he was staring Baki down, just from the chill of the room—the jōnin could do nothing but keep quiet or lose the use of some limbs.

Unconsciously, I let loose a slightly hysterical giggle.

Eyes snapped to me.

I shut up.

Still, sleep and chakra deprivation were getting to me. The uncontrollable urge to burst out laughing—at Baki, _not_ at Gaara—was lodging itself in my chest.

However, I think Gaara thought I _was_ laughing at him, considering I had just emitted a very ambiguous answer to _his_ question, and he made a sudden movement. I flinched again and tried to reign in the desire. It was choking me.

"Can I _please_ go home?" I begged in a whisper, tears of exhaustion pooling in my eyes. This was not my best situation. I was smiling somewhat awkwardly up at Gaara, eyeing Baki warily, and half-crying while pleading for salvation. Hmm. I didn't even think there was a lie I could tell to make this any better.

"No," Gaara said shortly, at the same time as Baki snapped the word. They glared at each other. I felt loved.

Well, ok, no I didn't. I felt tired and fed up and a little bit scared and still far too out-in-the-open. While the two males in the room continued their staring contest, and yanked at my last chakra reserves, faded through my bindings of sand, and slid through the wall like a ghost before they'd even noticed I'd gone.

-o-

I stepped, stumbled, fell, and collided with something decidedly hard and gritty. Blinking grains of much-desired sleep out of my eyes, I glanced up to see Gaara standing in front of me—behind a wall of sand—arms crossed.

Well, dang, now _I_ had a stalker.

I guess I hadn't left _entirely_ before they'd noticed.

He was just too clever for me.

"I just want to go home," I mumbled, and even though home was my mother and her parties and too much noise and light and color to rest, it was still true. Very, very true.

Slipping along in Gaara's shadow was a much, _much _better pastime when I wasn't dead on my feet and likely to collapse at any given second.

"I—_need_—" His mouth seemed unaccustomed to the word, and he paused a moment. I didn't let him continue.

"Gaara-sama," I said; my voice was quiet and a little bit anguished, though I hated myself for that just then, "I don't want to talk to you." For the first time, _ever_, it was completely true. Always before, there had been, even when I wanted to hide, a grain of longing to hear his voice, but right now… I was tired, damn it, and more than that, I was _scared_. Before… I hadn't been as scared of Gaara as all the others.

But now he wanted to talk. Now he wanted to ask me questions and find out why the hell I was always around him and I didn't want to answer and I didn't want to talk I just wanted to go home and _sleep_. And maybe I wanted to dream about standing there in the shadow of the demon and being what he needed, but I didn't want to talk to him about it.

"I don't want to talk to you!" I repeated, louder, salty hot water running lines through the dirt on my travel-stained face. "I can't—"

Something—something, ha, it was sand, sand, dark and lethal and dangerous sand and I knew it—bit deep into my ankles, swarming up my legs, drawing blood and not caring. I inhaled sharply, clamping down on my words, but the damage had been done.

"This is _not_," he hissed, icy fury radiating from his shaking form, "_about_ what you _want_."

Ok. It appeared that, in my exhaustion and lack of caution, I had awoken the demon inside who cared only for himself. The demon who had only recently learned to sit back and try to work things out with emotion instead of death. The demon who was _not_ that far beneath the surface.

Um… damn.

I repeated the expletive out loud; it was barely audible, but I think he heard me. In any case, the sand stopped squeezing, content to suck greedily at the wounds it had already made.

In my muddled state, I couldn't even begin to puzzle out why. Didn't people ever swear at him before they died? Or were they too busy screaming? Maybe he never gave them time. Maybe he was shocked to have given _me_ time.

It might have been a reminder. My very small, very tired voice could have reminded him of what he was struggling to become: Someone who let that voice live, just every once in a while. Someone who understood what that Uzumaki boy had said.

I owed my life to Uzumaki Naruto.

_Dang_, that was not something I wanted. I owed him twice over now—for Gaara, and for myself. At least.

The sand, sated—or restrained, at least, the bloodlust receding—released my limbs. As Gaara turned and trudged away, shoulders slumped, I collapsed.

And you know what I did then?

I took a nap.

Finally.

-o-

I shall tell you a secret: Baki's face is _not_ the one you want to wake up to. _Ever_. I _had_ the unfortunate experience, and I can attest.

"I've had enough punishment," I groaned hopefully. Not a lot hopefully, just a little hopefully.

"Then perhaps," he said stonily, stepping on all those little ant hopes, "you should learn to watch your words."

I really, really wanted to protest this. Watch my words? How could I be liar if I didn't do that?

Instead, I made a very muffled, ambiguous sound that probably translated to "I need more sleep" but that I would let him interpret as either agreement or disagreement, as he chose.

"Get up," he ordered.

"I'm afraid I'm too busy bleeding to death," I said, and went back to sleep.

-o-

A/N: OK! This is chapter 40! Woohoo! Now, I know I kept hinting at something mysteriously special about 40… but I changed my mind! You may groan in sadness, but I think you'll be happy about this one. ;) Remember when I hit that writing wall and wanted to quit? Well, after I picked myself back up from that wall, I decided I wasn't going to write through the Time Skip with Takara, I was just going to, well, skip it, take a break, get my breath back, go straight to Shippūden after I rested. Thus, 40 was going to be the chapter before that break; I was gonna make it really long, a special, a temporary goodbye…

And then… my guest writer didn't write for me! TTTT And she didn't write and she didn't write… and I got a HUGE break! I am so rested now… and ready to write Obsession! And write and write and write! (I am already writing chapter 46. XD) So in a way, be happy there was such a delay, because now I am going to keep writing instead of skipping!! :D So thanks, guest writer! (You know who you are. :D)


	44. Interlude: Belief

A/N: Since I couldn't get internet time last Friday, here's a random (low-quality) interlude to carry you through 'til _this_ Friday. XD

-o-

_Do you believe me?_

_I mean, do you believe my story? I've told you before—I keep telling you, again and again and again (again again again __**again**__)—that I'm a liar, but I'll bet you've taken everything I've said at face value. I tell lies but my story is the truth._

_Hah._

_Now, of course, you _don't _believe me, but I never said you were wrong. _

_I just laughed at you._

_It was a hollow sort of laugh, just in case you couldn't tell. It was also a little bitter. If you were wondering._

_But now what you're _really _wondering is whether or not this is fiction or history._

_History. Yeah right._

_Gaara makes history. Uzumaki Naruto makes history. The Kages make history._

_I don't make history._

_But I don't write fiction, either._

_And the truth is, sometimes I don't even know._

**Now**___do you believe me?_

…_Why?_

_I don't believe _you_. Or… I don't believe _**in**_ you. I think I gave up believing in people back when… A long time ago. I ran out of reasons for faith._

_Except in Gaara._

_And I don't know why I believe in him either. He changes, just like the rest of us. He changes, too. _

_There's nothing left that __**doesn't**_**. **

_There's nothing solid to believe in._

_But the desert's never been solid. Only a shifting, haphazard ocean of uncertainty that dances out from under your feet, the mortal enemy of stability._

_So I found something—some__**one—**_un_stable to trust._


	45. A Tool

A/N: Be happy. I stayed up 'til midnight to post this for you guys. XD (Not that I wasn't going to anyway.)

More fanart! Jeez! I just… don't deserve you guys… -happy tears- Anyway… a welcome back present from Liz: element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Shadows-and-Snow-94036975

Annnnd a picture from Apollo! apollo4(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/The-Obsession-Takara-93702892

The one from Apollo was posted the day after Takara's birthday, so… her birthday wasn't TOTALLY forgotten. XD It made me happy, since _I _left for the con August 2nd, and thus had no memory of it being my own character's birthday. Whoops. XD

Anyway… I was at a fanfiction panel at the convention, and apparently, can actually take your story down if you don't have a disclaimer. o: Since my only disclaimer is a little bit iffy and is mostly me whining about not owning Gaara, here:

Gaara, Naruto, and all related items/villages/ideas (if you can copyright an idea), and some dialogue © Masashi Kishimoto

Takara, her squad, Isane, her squad, all other original characters, plot, dialogue © Desert.Moon

There. XD I felt the tiniest bit guilty. Now not so much. Even if our beloved fanfiction _is_ technically illegal. XD

-o-

Well, he actually had the decency to relocate me from an alleyway to a hospital, a luxury I wasn't counting on. The medic-nin there fixed me up in no time—and let me sleep and sleep and sleep and warned me not to let my chakra get that low. Nevermind that A) It wasn't my fault that Gaara had dragged me through half the country and not let me sleep; and B) One of my very best ninja techniques required me to use a loooooooot of chakra.

Whatever. I got to sleep. A lot.

As soon as I was awake for more than sixty seconds, Baki demoted me to D-Rank missions. For at least a month.

I told him I still didn't know what I was being punished for. He didn't believe me. I guess some insults just bite too deep.

At least he hadn't _really_ had me branded traitor for my insolent—and possibly treasonous—words.

-o-

"We're going on a mission withoooooooout yoooooooou," Eiri sang.

"I don't care," I grumbled.

All three expressions—Chie's, Abura's, and even Eiri's, despite the fact that he usually couldn't master anything other than a wide, expressive grin—were totally deadpan.

"Cheh, who taught you to lie?" Abura said, as if he were trying to be funny. Which he failed at.

"I think it was my mother," I muttered, and proceeded to ignore him.

"We'll be back—"

"I don't care, just go!" I was really fed up with this dumb "missions"—a.k.a., community service—that were for people who had been genin for a heck of a lot less time than I had. My squad knew very well that I _did_ care, and they did _not_ have to rub it in.

This was what I got for being loyal to a demon.

They left me alone.

-o-

Shortly before midday—when I'd get a break from the heat of the sun—I felt someone's eyes on the back of my neck. It was hard not to. Shinobi are good at sensing nearby people, but Gaara's gaze was the coldest thing in this desert; I felt certain that even a civilian could feel him staring.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He moved slowly toward me; for one ridiculous moment, I thought he was going to help me.

He didn't, of course. That would have been too weird.

There were no shadows around me; it was the middle of a burning desert day on an open street with nowhere to hide. I turned around.

He uncrossed his arms, holding out one pale, clenched fist. I eyed it with the sinking feeling I knew what it contained.

He held his hand flat now, a crumpled piece of paper on his palm.

"What's that?" I asked politely, as if I had never seen a sheet of paper before, let alone this one in particular.

"I was under the impression it was yours" was his cool, quiet response.

"I can't seem to recall losing any pieces of paper recently." I kept my voice pleasant and calm, though I wanted to bolt.

His hand was still outstretched; he seemed to want me to take it, which I was understandably reluctant to do. I wasn't in the habit of taking back apologies. Especially the ones I _meant_.

"You couldn't… say it in person." I also couldn't decide if this was a question or a statement of fact, so I responded, "Say what?"

"I don't… _understand_." He almost seemed to be speaking to himself, or perhaps the demon inside, telling how much there was that he didn't understand. (Perhaps among that list was how I'd reached his window the night before to leave the note without getting caught.) "Why did you… apologize?" Another word unfamiliar on his tongue, I could tell.

"Because I was sorry," I muttered.

"Why?" He demanded. His favorite question.

I just looked at him and wished he would stop asking it, because I didn't want to answer.

-o-

I'd thought Gaara would leave me alone once I stopped responding to his queries—and he didn't kill me for it—but he hung around, watching as I worked and fallowing when I sought shade and lunch. He didn't say a word, which suited me fine, but it was rather like having a second shadow.

Go figure.

"I think," the red-haired shadow said slowly, startling me so I spilled water down my front, "I understand now."

Talk about unexpected. I waited to see what he had learned from following me around for an hour. (I hazarded the guess that it would be far less than I had learned from following _him_ around for six or seven years.)

"You are trying to kill me."

This time, I choked on my water, an unpleasant experience. OK, so he had learned _nothing_. "_What?_"

"My… father… is dead." He said the words flatly, letting none of his budding emotions show through, simply stating a fact of life. "They found him in the desert. His… _image_… was Orochimaru's tool."

"Effectively," I said, "we are _all_ somebody's tool." I was dreading where this was going, but curious at the same time.

"Are you… his… final assassin?"

That one left me speechless.

After swallowing a couple of buzzing desert insects, I managed, "You think that I am that _man's_ last-ditch attempt to kill you off _after_ his own death." Fury rose like bile in my throat at the father who would do that to his child.

Gaara said nothing, but his eyes said yes.

"Wouldn't I need to be more _stealthy_," I gritted, "to be an assassin? Standing here talking to you in broad daylight is not the best method of hiding."

"You have tried to wait in the shadows," he pointed out quietly. "Now you are hiding in plain sight."

I didn't know if that made sense. I didn't try to figure it out. This boy's logic was seriously convoluted.

Abruptly, I stood up, gathering the remains of my lunch. "Gaara-sama," I said, putting careful emphasis on the honorific, "may the gods of the desert have mercy on me if I ever try to kill you. Kami knows, I wouldn't deserve it."

Then I walked away and, surprisingly, he just watched me go.

-o-

A/N: Takara x Gaara Stalkershipping

Aaaanyway, I want to give a special shout out to all my _anonymous_ reviews. I never reply to them, even the ones who leave email addresses, because I… just… don't. DX Sorry. So, this is one big huge THANK YOU!! to everyone who's ever reviewed anonymously. I love getting ALL your comments, guys. Thanks.

Speaking of reviews, every time I make a dent in them, you guys send more. XD I finally got down from 100 in my folder to 60. Will I ever finish them? No…

Ugh. School starts in a week. Don't worry, I'm writing chapter 49 (the one before FIFTY!!) right now, so I'll have plenty to keep posting even if I don't have time to write, and you'll still get your Friday chapters. ;) Or would you guys prefer to have them on Monday, so there's one good thing about that darn day? XD

And go vote for the poll on my page, k? :D Go, my loyal slaves, go!! –is shot–


	46. A Puzzle

A/N: Ok, I've got about three people telling me they want Monday postings… and nobody else telling me anything. DX So if I don't get enough votes for Friday by _next_ Friday, I'm just moving to Monday, k? Good.

Anyway… I'm down to 35 FF messages, guys…. One day… I'll answer them all! Mwahaha! –shot–

-o-

"Just _one day_," I mumbled into my pillow. "_One day_ to _sleep_ after I finished those damn chores."

"Cheh, get _up_."

Peeved, I opened my eyes and rolled over just enough to glare up at Abura's shadowy features, groggily wondering why he'd lit no flame.

"Abura! What the hell time of morning do you call this? 'Cause I don't; _I _call it _night_."

"Cheh," he spat. "Your favorite monster is missing."

I sat bolt-upright, nearly colliding with the pyro in the darkness. "Gaara-sama? He's—missing?"

"Cheh. That _is_ what I said," Abura hissed. His smoky blue eyes were narrowed, while my own dark ones were wide and worried.

"Tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Chie-sensei"—the way he said it, it sounded like '_cheh_-sensei'; he obviously wasn't happy with her—"didn't deign to give me the details." And from the sour note in his voice, I could tell what he thought of _that_ decision. "She said to tell you that your monster had gone missing, and no one on the council was looking to care."

"They'd rather be rid of him," I muttered, a little bit of fury tingeing my voice. They didn't take the time to see that he was changing.

And Chie-sensei… what? Wanted me to go after him? For sure _I _wanted to—quivers of anger and a readiness to leave ran down my spine at even the thought—and I was running hot on chakra (D-Rank missions don't take much), but… why?

I remembered the conversation, though, from… so long ago. _"If he were on my side, I would never die." _Where she had acknowledged the truth—_"Those he protected would be hard-pressed to find someone who could penetrate his defenses"_—but refused that it could happen—_"Gaara's not on anyone's side."_ Just what did she want? A liaison with the demon, to keep the village safe, the children alive?

She wouldn't look at him either.

But I didn't matter. _I _looked. I saw.

"Abura-kun, when did you get back from your mission?"

"_Cheh_." That one word was overflowing with disgust and irritability. "'Bout ten minutes ago, almost as planned. I'm running on less sleep than you, Takara-chan, so shut up and go find your crazy demon lover."

"If you ever say that again," I said, "I shall have to kill you. Painfully. I thought we got over such childish taunts the first time the subject came up."

"Cheh," he responded, and disappeared.

-o-

I didn't so much _pack _as grab a canteen of water and a light grey, long-sleeved shirt. (White would have been better for the daytime, but it was too hard to turn white to black without using extravagant amounts of chakra.) I ended up through the sentinel cliffs and at the edge of the desert before I realized that, um, I was _not_ a tracker ninja, and I had no idea where I was going. Muttering darkly to myself, I turned back, hoping to find Abura and ask if he had any more information for me.

He was already standing there. I jumped about a foot and glared at him, then remembered I was looking for him anyway.

"I don't—"

"Cheh, I know," he grumbled. "Chie-sensei said they found evidence that he'd been captured by the shinobi of Kansei Village."

Silence. I blinked at him. "Abura-kun, Kansei doesn't have shinobi."

"Cheh." He crossed his arms. "They're beginning to."

"And… so…"

"They're making a move on Suna while it's still weak from the loss of the Kazekage."

"But it's been months."

"Maybe they're luring us—the Council—into a false sense of security. Cheh, _I _don't know!"

"…You're sour when you need sleep, aren't you?"

"_Yes_."

"Ok, one more question…. if they're just starting to train shinobi, how would they have the capability to hold _Gaar_—"

"Takara-chan," he said coolly, "_I _tell the facts I've been given. Lying is your job."

I fell silent, staring at him ponderously. "Fine," I said. "I'm going to Kansei."

I let him get some sleep.

-o-

Grimly, Kansei Village appeared abandoned. It had taken me nearly a day to walk there (I walked to save chakra, not wanting to be low if—ok, when—I needed it), and night had fallen again, sending a chill down my spine. The empty village was depressingly stereotypical, and I wondered where the hell the civilians had gone as I crept along through the darkest shadows.

Oh, wait—not perfectly abandoned. Two black-clad ninja stood, apparently guarding an equally empty building.

Sighing to myself—what did I think I could do here, really?—I crept forward silently. And when I say silently, I mean _silently_. Perfectly silently.

Nonetheless, the two shinobi spun—in unison, I might add—looked directly at me, and conjured several chakra fireballs from thin air.

Biting back several choice words, I dodged to the side, avoiding both the flames and the flickering light they shed, thus keeping me invisible. They were only shooting at shadows. They couldn't see me.

Right. That's why every fireball came straight toward me, instead of going way off course just every in a while. I felt like I was dancing with both flames and shadows as I struggled to avoid the attacks while trying to figure out how the hell they were finding me.

Unfortunately, the distraction left my hair singed and my eyes watering, so I gave it up and concentrated on getting out of the way. The fireballs waltzed and wove—and someone came up behind me to hold a kunai to my throat.

Frozen, I swallowed hard, watching the flames dissolve into nothing, vowing that—if I got out of this—I was going to make Abura teach me how to dispel chakra-fire.

Wait. Abura. These people knew exactly how to find me… Had Abura sent me into a trap?

More importantly, had he done it on purpose?

…No way. Not Abura.

Not Abura.

-o-

I ended up in a room that would have been perfectly ordinary had it not been lit only by a few, flickering candles, casting bizarre shadows on the walls. My hands were tied and, for the moment, I'd been left alone; instead of freeing myself and fleeing immediately, I amused myself by trying to control the shadow's movements while I waited for someone to come tell me what the hell was going on.

Well, someone came, but that was the extent of my wish-fulfillment.

The man who faced me was the first person to break the cliché that I had seen so far. He was not, as you might expect, tall, hulking, and ugly, but short and rather slim. Nonetheless, his pale green eyes sent shivers down my spine, and I expected to see a whole array of torturous implements appear in his slender fingers at any moment.

Not that I could figure out, at this point, why the hell anyone would want to torture _me_. Unless they got tired of me following them around…

"What is your specialty?" he asked, sharply and abruptly, in a voice that was deceptively hoarse. I blinked at him, now trying to work out the purpose of this question. It was quite clear they already _knew_; how the hell else would I be so easily spotted while I was cloaked in shadows?

Oh, well, if he was asking, I was telling…

"Weaponsmaster," I gasped, cowering back against the wall like I was scared. (I was, a little, but mostly I was just damn confused.) "I'm training to be a weaponsmaster."

His fingers twitched, as if they, too, expected to feel pain-inducing tools clutched in their grasp. "Liar. You have no sword."

I nearly dropped my act, gaping at him with pure astonishment. "_What?_ What kind of reasoning is that?! I know—one of my _teammates_ is also a weaponsmaster, and _he_ doesn't have a sword—ow!—_either!_" (The 'ow' came from the fact that he had just drawn a kunai from nowhere and poked me in the side with it, oddly reminiscent of when Eiri did it, only decidedly more painful.) I glared at him.

"Can _I _ask a question now?"

"No."

"Why the hell are you asking me this stuff?"

"Stop talking," he said, and walked out.

I was going to strangle somebody.

Probably myself, because my hands were tied together, and I didn't think I could quite manage anybody else.

-o-

A/N: Curious… If I did a writing/drawing contest in honor of Chapter 50, would you guys enter it?


	47. A Ghost

A/N: Well, as you guys have probably noticed, I've moved chapter-posting day to Monday. This is because I got about three people voting for Monday, about two people voting for Friday, and at least two people voting for both/telling me to post early, and they won't mind. (I've got to tell you this, guys. Begging for earlier chapters makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but if I posted the chapter a couple days earlier, you'd then have a longer wait for the next one. I don't have enough chapters written to post twice a week; my fanfic muse has run off on vacation with Liz's. There is ONE series of three chapters I will post Monday-Thursday-Monday—you'll see why when we get that far—but other than that, I'm only gonna post Mondays, k? ;) Good.) So, anyway, Mondays it is! :D

-o-

Figuring I wasn't going to get much more—well, _any_—information out of the people who were going to visit me here, I supplied enough chakra to my wrists to slip through the bonds and then fled the room, feeling like a ghost. I slid down empty corridors, sunk into the shadows and using them as my eyes throughout the building. Mostly, I was searching for Gaara.

I should have been searching for traps.

A twang of releasing string and a sickly thud preceded a sharp, agonizing pain; I stumbled and, gasping, released the jutsu that let me see where I wasn't looking.

Coated with blood, a kunai jutted disturbingly out of my right shoulder. Cringing, I eyed it, wishing I knew whether or not to remove it.

In the end, I decided that walking around with a knife sticking out of me was going to be highly disturbing, so I would pull it out.

So I wouldn't bleed to death, I cut several strips from the sleeves of my jacket and held them in one hand, then wrapped the other around the hilt of the kunai. Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes—I really did not like the way that blood was everywhere—I tugged.

It hurt.

A lot.

Trying not to scream—not very stealthy, screaming—I maneuvered the bandages around my shoulder—it wasn't easy, I assure you—tying them in a method that would hopefully not cut off circulation, as I did sort of still need my arm. The grey fabric was quickly soaked through with crimson; I shrugged the remains of my jacket back on so I wouldn't have to look at the wound.

From then on, I kept one eye on the shadows and one eye on my intended path of travel. It quickly gave me the most intense headache I had ever experienced, but at least I didn't wind up dead. I still triggered a few more traps, but didn't receive anything more severe than a few grazes that bled sluggishly and a rope burn.

Through my network of darkness, one eye spotted something completely unexpected: my two teammates.

Frowning, I stopped, pressed myself up against the cold stone wall, and focused all my attention on the indistinct images. Both Eiri and Abura appeared chained in a cell, looking a little bruised and a lot weary, but not mortally injured.

I couldn't figure out how Abura could have gotten to Kansei Village before me, unless he'd run, and then gotten himself beat up a little. But why? That didn't make sense. At all.

So one of the two was fake.

Immediately, I redirected my course, following a path to my team with one eye and giving up my sight to search for Gaara with the other. So far, there had been no sign of him at all, no dusting of gold or scattering of sand. It worried me.

-o-

There were no guards in the _immediate _vicinity of my teammates' cell, which was probably a good thing, as I didn't really know exactly how many people could see through my shadows. Glancing around nervously, I slid through the door, ghostlike, and crept over to Abura, who appeared to be sleeping.

"It's me," I whispered in his ear.

He jerked awake, looked around frantically, didn't see anyone, relaxed. "Cheh, took you long enough," he hissed. That's gratitude for you. "Where's your backup hiding?"

I frowned at him, letting my jutsu dissolve and materializing before his eyes. "Uh… what backup?"

He stared at me, gaping. "You didn't bring backup?"

"What was I supposed to do, wander about the village in the middle of the night trying to recruit people into rescuing someone they all see as a monster?!"

"You actually _believed _that Gaara was _missing?_" he practically yelped. "You mean you didn't _check?!_"

Ok, I was totally lost. "Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Takaaaaaara-chaaaan," cried Eiri, who had apparently woken up and realized what was going on, "can you get us oooooooout?"

"Of course," I muttered, "but only if someone tells me what the hell I'm missing after I do."

I wasn't sure if we had a deal. Abura seemed to be muttering darkly about my stupidity and Eiri merely responded with "Iiiiiiiiii have kuuuuunaaaaaaaaaai."

"Er… so do I."

"Yeees, Takara-chaaan," he said patiently, "but yooooours doesn't open loooocks."

I blinked at him. "…Eiri-kun, where do you _get_ stuff like that?"

"Takaraaaaa-chaaaaaaaaan!"

"Alright already." Rolling my eyes, I stepped over Abura, who glared at me—I seemed to have offended him with my apparent idiocy—and followed Eiri's directions to get his lock-picking kunai, which he couldn't reach himself because of his chains. After freeing them both, I folded my arms and demanded, "_What the hell is going on?_"

"_Cheh,_" Abura spat. "You. Are. An. Idiot."

"Gee, thank you for that wonderfully detailed explanation, now can you please tell me _why_?"

"Wellllll," began Eiri, since Abura seemed unlikely to continue without insulting my intelligence again. "Kansei Village is making their oooooooown shinobi force. Aaaaaaand they get their jutsus by stealing them from oooooother people."

"And genin are easy prey," I guessed.

"Haaaaai. We're on our mission—escort, it was just escort!—aaaaaaaand…" He trailed off, looking miserable. "Takara-chaaan, we faaaaailed."

"Cheh," Abura muttered, while I stared at the weaponsmaster.

"Well, it's hardly your fault…" I attempted.

"Cheh, we don't have time for this."

"It's better than wandering around in the dark," I snapped.

"Takara-chan, that is what you _always_ do."

I had nothing to say to that. I simply scowled and returned my attention to Eiri. "What about Gaara-sama?"

"As far as Iiiiiiiii know," the weaponsmaster mumbled, "heeeee's still at hoooooome."

"We told them you would go _check_," Abura grumbled cryptically.

"Told who what and why?" I demanded, losing patience with the slow information flow. "Spit it out!"

"Theyaskedabunchofquestionsandwetoldthembecausewehadtoandtheyknewaboutyourshadowsandthemonsterbutwesaidiftheytoldyouhewasgoneyouwouldgocheckfirst!" Eiri wailed, all in one breath. Apparently, he only had two speeds of talking. I blinked at him, trying to work this out.

"So… they believed you about everything else, but not that…" I said slowly. "Meaning they had someone to back up their story… someone who they believed more than you… and someone who knows me." This was a very alarming thought. I filed away the rising panic for later. "Where's Chie-sensei?"

"Somewhere else," Abura practically snarled. I looked at him in alarm, afraid he was going to rupture a blood vessel or something. Somewhere in the distance, an explosion rocked the foundations of the building. "Probably _there_. Can we _go_?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be best, I'll look for her as we go," I mumbled, trudging toward the door.

Suddenly, two startlingly malicious green eyes appeared at the barred window. Hurriedly, I backpedaled, colliding with my teammates and sending us all crashing to the floor as the door exploded inward.

-o-

A/N: DUN DUN DUN!! –shot–

Just so you know… this fic IS sort of developing a semi-consistent plot for the time being. Yeah. A little bit. It's not world-shaking or anything, and eventually, we'll get through the Time Skip and I'll, of course, go through Shippūden the best I can… You know. Yeah. :) There is a vague plot thing going on.

Oh, and tomorrow's Bakura's birthday, guys! Celebrate with me! :D :D :D (That means Abura's is coming up, too… Did you know that Yami Bakura says 'Che' in the Japanese anime? It's crazy! Bakura and the un-Bakura are so similar. XD)

Love you guys and my 55-message FF inbox!

-Kit


	48. A Pulse

A/N: Ahh, I don't know about for you guys, but the time since the last chapter has gone pretty fast for me… :D I haven't even replied to any of my reviews… ;; Speaking of reviews, can I make the request that you guys **do not post spoilers** in your comments on this chapter especially? I know there are some people who read reviews before the chapter… and I don't want anything spoiled. ;) Just don't come out and say what happened, please.

Also… my _brother_—pikachu15eevee—got my 400th review. :o (400… that's a lot. Wow. Almost halfway to 1000. Thanks, bro!) He will be appearing briefly in Chapter 50 (and that IS halfway to 100… what say we go for 500 reviews by 50 chapters? XD). A HUGE thank you to EVERYONE who's EVER posted ANY review. I couldn't have gotten this far without you.

Oh, and to clarify that contest I mentioned: It would be something you could either draw _or_ write for. So anyone could enter. :) I've gotten sufficient people saying they'd try to enter that I'm definitely gonna do it, I think. :D Details will come with Chapter 50—which I'll be starting soon, as I just finished 49. :D :D :D

-o-

In came the hulking muscleman who'd been missing before, followed by a squadron of somewhat smaller shinobi and the tool-less torture man. Only this time, he wasn't tool-less.

He clenched several slim, wicked instruments in one slender hand, though the other remained free, presumably to wield the sword strapped like a splint to his arm. "Still trying to be a weaponsmaster?" he grated mockingly.

Scrambling to my feet, I went for a kunai, then realized I still had Eiri's long and narrow lock-picking blade in my hand. I flung it at him, yelling, "Would a non-weaponsmaster have _this?_"

"Takara-chaaaaaaaaaaaan!" Eiri wailed. "I only had oooooone of thooooooooooooooose!"

"Shut up, Eiri!"

The green-eyed man snatched at the hilt of his sword, slicing its bindings and drawing it across his body in one fluid motion, easily blocking the kunai. My eyes widened, and I swallowed hard: The edge of the blade was not smooth, as one might expect from a sword, but jagged and wickedly curved. The sword would go in real easy and come out a hell of a lot more painful.

Oh crap…

Apparently, my teammates had the same feeling; they had both stood, and Abura was firing off blasts of flame at the man while Eiri whipped a multitude of ninja weaponry at the other ninja. Several were hit, though none went down; the muscleman simply batted them away like flies.

We were outnumbered about three to one, and we were genin. Injured genin.

Not good odds. Not at all.

Abura and I ended up back-to-back, fighting the seven small shinobi. The muscleman and the sword-wielder teamed up and took on Eiri. I threw shuriken as quickly as I was able, whipping them from my holster and flinging them at my opponents. But I was no weaponsmaster and my aim wasn't as good; most soared helplessly by, grazing shoulders, tearing fabric, making absolutely no dent whatsoever in the circle of adversaries. I couldn't risk standing still long enough to attempt a genjutsu, and that would only catch one of them anyway.

Behind me, Abura was faring slightly better. His fireballs had taken out two shinobi; they lay smoldering on the ground. Their downfall was probably their lack of experience: All the ninja of Kansei Village were new to this game.

"Hey, Abura-kun," I hissed, struck by inspiration—or desperation, if you like. "Remember the Naras?"

"Cheh, not a good _time_," he gritted, flames dancing from his fingertips in long, twisting ropes that reached for his opponents.

"They taught me something," I said. "I need a moment."

Apparently, he understood; a ring of fire exploded up from the ground, scorching several shinobi and taking one more off the board. The rest leapt back, snarled at the conflagration, tested the heat of the fire.

"Hurry up."

Rolling my eyes—like I was going to take my time about it—I imitated what Shikamaru had shown me, bringing my hands together and reaching out with the shadows. I didn't have a great reach, but my enemies weren't very far away from me at all. The darkness spread out at my feet, worrying the edge of the ring where the shinobi waited on the other side.

"Drop it!" I shouted; the flames fell and I snagged all four ninja with the Shadow Possession Jutsu.

But it was weak. They struggled and twitched, fighting the paralysis and winning. Laboring to hold them, I gasped, "Abura-kun, take 'em out quick!"

He rushed to obey, aiming first for the three who stood close together. A massive sphere of raging flame hurtled toward the trio, hungry for their flesh.

Not wanting to feel those flames, I released the possession of those three—and accidentally dropped the fourth as well.

Several kunai sprung toward Abura's unprotected back. I hurled my few remaining shuriken in an attempt to intercept, but only one of them succeeded, so I went for kunai instead.

Too late, of course. The attack was too close and Abura was spinning and there was nothing we could do—

Six perfectly thrown shuriken collided with the kunai, knocking them all to the ground.

Eiri.

When the man turned to look, to see who had foiled his plans, I drew one kunai from its holster and hurled it into his heart.

Then I thought of Gaara and the killing he did all the time and I saved the nausea for later.

Because Eiri was in serious trouble. He was facing the two strongest opponents here, to two _real_ adversaries, and he was beaten back. He had been, even before he had thrown away a moment of opportunity to save Abura. One arm hung limp at his side, looking decidedly broken; blood ran down his cheek, his shredded sleeve, his limp hand. Bruises were forming all across his face; one eye was swelling shut even as he struggled to keep it open, to see where he flung his throwing stars and needles and blades.

As I watched—as I sprinted toward him, across a room grown impossibly large—the massive muscled man lost use of his eyes to a couple of senbon. He growled in quiet fury, soft agony, clutching his face but being careful not to push them deeper, into his brain, into death, as blood trickled over his scarred cheeks. A fireball hit him square in the back, drawing his blind attention away from Eiri, who was falling beneath the green-eyed man's wicked blade.

Frantically, I prepared a genjutsu and tried to snare the man in its shadowy clutches. I missed. Gathering up a mass of chakra, I channeled it into my feet and my kunai and launched myself at the sword-wielding shinobi, reckless but desperate.

The blade fell. Weakly, Eiri blocked it, a single kunai to halt a storm of wicked metal. The sword stopped, but barely; the tiny blade fell from Eiri's shaking hand. Another one replaced it in an instant, so fast I barely saw his hand move, but the sword battered at him relentlessly, sending kunai after kunai clattering to the stone floor.

Brutal, vicious claws of steel raked across Eiri's chest. Crying, sobbing, screaming, my own kunai plunged into the back of the man's head as the sword slashed again and again and again and again and—too much through the genin's skin.

Crimson, fluid, spurted into my face, blinding me, choking me. It was worse than standing near Gaara as he killed, worse than being the one killed, I thought. I crashed to the ground, coughing, retching, dying—did dying taste this bad?—as Eiri sank to trembling, bleeding knees.

The remains of my kill spattered across the floor as I threw it back up, then crawled to my teammate and prayed that Abura was ok behind me because I couldn't turn to look. I had eyes only for the prone form of my dying weaponsmaster friend.

"Eiri, Eiri, Eiri," I chanted, the words gathering on my tongue like the remains of the battle, begging to be spat out in an attempt to save him. "Eiri, Eiri—" But I had no power over words, only shadows, and shadows were intangible, they didn't heal, didn't bandage, didn't mend.

_What do I say? _What do you say to a dying friend, what final words can you offer them that you will never regret? _What do I say, what do I say, what do I _say?!

"Eiri," I repeated. "Eiri, Eiri, Eiri—" The mantra had to end, had to _end_ before he did, he knew his name…

"Eiri," I choked. "Eiri, you—you saved us all, you saved our lives, you—" Deep breath, calm down, tell him, tell him—tell him _what?!_

"Eiri," I whispered, "Isane loves you."

"Yaaaaay," he breathed, and closed his eyes.

I stood up, horror, terror, disbelief washing over me. A tremendous crash that almost sent me back to the floor indicated the falling of the muscleman ninja, but it didn't really seem to matter.

"I've lost a squadmate," I whispered. "I'm—we're one short. What happens when you're one short?" My voice rose steadily towards hysteria. "What do they do? Do they—do they give you a new one? Abura! What do they—"

I looked at him and stopped dead.

He had wandered over, bruised and broken, and now he was… shattered. His face was ashen, his smoky eyes glazed over with shock. He looked as if he couldn't light a fire to save his life.

"Abura-kun! Abura! Wake up! Wake—" I dropped to my knees beside Eiri again and searched for a pulse, a breath, a movement, a—_anything_.

I didn't find it.

"Abura-kun!" I cried. "It's—I found a pulse! It's shallow, faint—he's alive! I… I was wrong…" I scrambled for something he would understand. "I lied! I lied, he's alive!"

The pyro jerked, shuddered, like a machine restarting. His voice was low, hoarse, barely audible. "Then we need—"

"To find Chie-sensei," I interrupted firmly. "Look, I'll hide him"—shadows slid across the weaponsmaster, obscuring his body from view—"and we'll get sensei and come back and save him but we have to go _now_."


	49. A Choice

A/N: OK, guys, couldn't leave you on such an ending for an entire week, so here's the next chapter a little early. (: Again, **please**, no major spoilers in your reviews—if you reeeeally need to get it out, feel free to PM me. :D :D :D Can't promise I'll reply right away, but I WILL read it. :D Speaking of replies, I am refraining from replying to anymore from the recent chapters for the time being… I realized I'm getting dangerously close to spoiling stuff in my replies… ;;; So if I get time to respond to my wonderful reviews (love you guys :D), it's gonna be to the old ones, k?

Btw… this chapter **45**… kinda exciting, eh? :D

-o-

"Abura-kun, she is this way."

"Cheh." He didn't seem to believe me. "_I'm_ going _this_ way."

"_Why? _We can't split up, we almost got ki—almost lost when we were all together. We can't split up!"

"Cheh, we have more of a chance of finding Sensei if we take different paths."

"Abura-kun, we don't have to _find_ her. I _know_ where she _is_. I found her already."

"I'm going this way," he said firmly, and walked away.

I stared after him, jaw working, trying to say _something_ that would bring him back. I didn't want to get him killed, too. That would be… too much.

"_Abura!" _I yelled, not very stealthily. "Don't end up like Eiri!"

He stopped dead, turned around, eyes smoldering. I caught him in a Shadow Possession, held him there, walked up, knocked him unconscious with a punch. Then I left him in his jail, hidden in the darkness with the body of his best friend.

-o-

In my shadowy network of sight, Chie-sensei was locked in an intense battle with someone whose explosions kept hiding his face. The bursts of light and fire caused the gloom in their battlefield to fluctuate too unpredictably, and my head was going to explode; I let the shadow-sight go.

Just in time to trigger another trap.

Actually, it was a flurry of interconnected traps; I ducked one pair of flying kunai only to find myself practically face-to-face with a circle of spinning shuriken. With a quick chakra manipulation, I melted to shadow and avoided those—by triggering a rope that coiled hungrily around my legs and sucked at my chakra.

Several cuts, bruises, and chakra losses later, the blizzard of steel died down, and I found myself staring up at a blonde shinobi who was grinning ear to ear.

"_Isane?!"_ I said, suitably surprised. "I—eh—it was _you?!_"

Her grin widened. "Yup! Kumo orchestrated this—and, well, village before friends. Speaking of friends," she added, before I could say anything, "where's Eiri-kun?"

"He's injured."

"Oh swoon! He's—" She caught sight of my ashen face, the downfall of my act.

"Kori-chan," she said quietly, "just how _badly_ is my swoon-worthy opponent injured?"

I was silent for a moment. "…Abura-kun thought he was dead. I—" I choked. "_I_ thought he was dead."

Shuriken fell from limp fingers, clattered to the floor. "Where is he?" she demanded, the most serious I had ever seen her. "Where?!"

"He's hiding," I mumbled. "I have to go get Chie-sensei before we go save him."

She moved slightly, and I thought she was going to let me pass, but she settled into a fighting stance, drawing another shuriken from its holster.

"I'm sorry, Takara-chan," she whispered. "Village before friends."

"I understand," I said, then thought of Gaara and wished I did.

She fought well, but she didn't fight _hard_. Each and every attack was blocked—not difficult, considering I was battling not only her but several injures—but not a single one was reciprocated. Only worry filled her bright blue eyes, not determination or heat-of-battle bloodlust.

I disarmed her with probably one of the weakest blows I had given the entire battle and held the kunai halfheartedly to her throat.

"Oh, just go," she said wearily.

I nodded and walked on, leaving her kneeling on the floor.

"Kori-chan!" she shouted after me, waiting until I was almost out of earshot. "Kori-chan, where _is_ he?"

"Hiding," I said firmly, and moved on.

-o-

It really wasn't much of a surprise when I crept up on Chie-sensei's battle and her opponent was the explosive Haruka Hitomi, Isane's teacher. Chie-sensei's azure hair was singed, her clothes scorched and smoldering. Despite this, she didn't appear to be tiring—at least, not anymore than her opponent, because you couldn't be fighting for that long and not be tired.

What really shocked me was when Abura walked up behind me.

I jumped about a foot in the air and stared at him. "How did you get here?" I hissed, guessing Eiri had remained separately hidden, or else Abura would either look at lot more angry or a lot less alert.

"Cheh, I took the other path."

I rolled my eyes and sank into the shadows, preparing a sneak attack, but Abura didn't let me get that far. Silently, coldly—oh, I had never seen such cold fire in his eyes—he flung three raging fireballs at Chie-sensei's opponent.

All three struck her in the side, sending her right half up in flames. Miraculously, she let out no sound of pain, though her flesh burned and writhed.

Flying through the seals, Chie-sensei doused the fire with a quick water style jutsu, then slipped forward to threaten Hitomi's life with her blade.

The fallen jōnin scowled. "I can't yield to you."

"Of course you can't," Chie-sensei agreed, and put her to sleep with one burst of chakra.

"Where's Eiri?" the azure-haired jōnin demanded on turning to us. She was breathing erratically, but it seemed to be calming now that she was no longer fighting.

"He's injured," I said, looking into her eyes and hoping, for once, that she would see through my words. Of course she did. "Really badly. I've hidden him, but we have to go back and hurry or else he won't make it."

These words seemed to kindle a new spark in Abura's eyes. "Cheh, let's go _now_."

"Yes, let's," agreed Chie-sensei, and disappeared.

I looked at Abura, who looked back at me. "I don't have enough chakra left to do that," I mumbled. "I don't know how _she_ does either."

"Cheh, neither do I," he muttered, irritated.

"I guess we'll have to walk," I said with false cheerfulness. "Let's take my way back; I already triggered all the traps."

-o-

We didn't make it more than a few steps before Isane showed up, face pale and eyes worried. Grabbing Abura's wrist, I tugged him back out of the way; the trapmaster trudged over to her scorched sensei and leaned down, shaking her awake. Apparently, Chie-sensei hadn't put much chakra into the jutsu that put her to sleep in the first place.

The sandy-haired jōnin's green eyes slid open; she sat up, mumbling something about too short a nap. Abura was tugging at my arm, wanting to leave, but I wanted to know how this would turn out.

Isane looked her sensei in the eye, then deliberately untied her _hitai-ate_ from around her waist and dropped it on the ground.

Then she turned and walked back toward us. "I'm coming with you guys," she said quietly, while her sensei looked thoughtfully at her retreating back.

-o-

A/N: Normal chapter schedule will resume on Monday… The day after my birthday! Yayz! :D And Abura's is coming up, too. :D :D :D


	50. A Tribute

A/N: Well… Thanks to those who wished me a happy birthday, I had a blast at my party. :) Um… Yeah. Reviews piling up again. ;; Didn't reply to any because I didn't want to accidentally give spoilers, like I said.

Oh, and I lied about being back on the regular schedule. You'll get an interlude on Thursday, and _then_ be back on schedule. ;p Hm, I'm running out of chapters… DX

-o-

I didn't say anything to Isane until we reached Suna, its sentinel cliffs glowering down at us for bringing a traitor into their midst.

A traitor… Was that what she was? Technically, I suppose. A traitor to her village. What would that make her here?

"What about Hitotsu and Onaji?" I remarked without really paying attention.

She looked startled, then flashed a halfhearted grin. "Meh, they'll be just fine. In fact," she went on brightly, "Hit-kun's probably happy. I bet he's plotting to get rid of Ji-kun next."

I glanced at her to see if she was joking. I couldn't tell.

We entered Suna with heavy hearts and were converged upon by jōnin and medic-nin. Chie-sensei had carried Eiri home; the rest of us had offered to do it, had _wanted _to do it, but a body carried by three children was… slow-going.

I caught sight of Gaara standing a little ways away, a large, dark bundle at his feet. I disentangled myself from the medics—though I greatly wished to let them have their way with me: They were prescribing pain-killers and sleep—and trudged over to him.

The bundle was a person, covered in blood. He had dark hair and eyes glazed over in death, sightlessly accusing me of betrayal.

The fake Abura.

"What a lovely welcome home gift," I said, and turned my face away.

-o-

When I got back to Isane, she was staring at something in the palm of her hand. I peered at it, trying to figure out what it was. It seemed to be some sort of dried plant—something leafy and green, at least, though with a poisonous orange tinge.

"Kori-chan, do you know what I'm supposed to do now?" she said quietly. "Poison the Council member. Throw your village into chaos, so mine can succeed." She wouldn't look at me. "My last mission."

Silence, for a minute. Then she dropped the plant to the earth and deliberately ground it into dust.

"I've already given them up once today, eh, Kori-chan? Once more can't hurt."

She turned away. I didn't know where she was going to go.

I suddenly had very different problems.

"You _lied_ to me," Abura snarled, staring me straight in the eye. "You told me he was alive!" Incandescent sparks flickered and danced around his fingers; I eyed them warily.

"Abura-kun," I said quietly. "I'm a liar. And if you'd kept standing there, you would've been dead, too." I took a deep breath.

"I've seen you dead once today, and Kami help me, Pyro, I could _not_ handle it."

His shoulders sagged; the sparks winked out. "The fake me," he mumbled. "Who… Cheh, how did he die?"

So he hadn't noticed. Good. "A jōnin spotted him hanging around, trying to make sure Gaara didn't leave and spoil their plans. His stories didn't hold up understand questioning." His jutsu had, though. I wondered why.

"Are they—Cheh, it's your fault," he spat suddenly, anger rekindling in his eyes. I just looked at him, startled. "You needed to stand around so we could _explain_, instead of—cheh, instead of _leaving_ and not giving them time to come attack! Or… or if you had cared more about—about, _cheh_, common _sense_ and your _village_ and your _friends_ than that damn _monster_, you would have _checked_ and—and saved us—all of us…"

Dark, smoldering fury raged in his smoky blue eyes. I knew why he was blaming _me_, I think. Because if _I_ wasn't to blame, who was? Whose fault could it be?

In Abura's mind, only his. After all, Eiri had sacrificed those few precious moments to save the pyro instead of himself.

So I stood there. I stood there while his gaze rained fire down on my bowed head and I took the blame.

"OK," I said. "It's all my fault."

-o-

I don't know what they said at the funeral.

It was unusual. A funeral for a ninja—it was unusual.

Because the bodies—they never came home.

That's why everyone was there, I think. Every shinobi who'd ever lost a squadmate, every civilian who'd ever lost a friend. This was a tribute to every shinobi who'd died alone with no one to mark their graves.

And they talked. They all talked and talked and talked—even the ones who never said a word, they all talked—their expressions, their faces—oh, their _eyes_.

I tried to file it all away in my memory, to record it for—for Eiri—but I couldn't. I don't even know what _I _said—yes, I spoke, I spoke, I said something _out_ _loud_ but it was all lost in the crying and the sobbing and the roaring in my ears.

I remembered.

I remember—I heard someone say he was the greatest among us, and I almost laughed. I choked instead.

He was a genin, a genin, _thirteen_, he wasn't the greatest among anyone.

He might've been. He could've been.

He wasn't.

I didn't cry.

I wasn't allowed to cry.

Twenty-fifth rule of Shinobi Conduct. 'No matter what happens, true shinobi must never, ever show their emotions. The mission is the only priority. Carry that in your heart. And never, never shed a tear.'

I remembered that.

And then I cried.

I stood there and watched them carve his name into the Hero's Stone, acknowledging he had died in battle like a true shinobi.

He was a _genin_. A _child_.

Just like the rest of us.

Abura lit the funeral pyre with a spark that twisted and grew and raged, consuming our teammate, our friend, our _brother_ in a rampant storm of fire. He fed chakra into that blaze like it was life-force that could bring Eiri back.

Most people stepped away, rebuffed by the intensity of the flames. Abura didn't. Chie-sensei didn't. Isane didn't.

I didn't.

His family didn't either, his mother and father and little sister, none of whom I could bear to look at it. The teachers from the Academy—even the ones who hadn't known him—they stayed, too. They looked into Eiri's quiescent face and wondered how many more students they'd see go to the grave.

I knew the answer: _Too many._

That pyre burned for days. Abura sat there through it all, feeding it, making it grow. I don't know where he found the chakra; after two days, he was the only one who could take the heat, impossibly intense. Isane stood as close as possible, too, gazing; I brought them both food every day, watching Eiri burn.

Of course, Eiri was long gone. What Abura burned now were his weapons, casting chakra into the fire until the steel softened and melted and finally drifted away into the empty desert air, chasing Eiri's ghost.

-o-

After the funeral, Gaara followed me home.

I knew he was there, and he didn't make much of an effort to hide himself. I didn't acknowledge him; I kept hoping he would give up and leave me alone to cry myself to sleep.

He didn't.

So instead of entering my house, setting him on my mother—or my mother on him, depending—I climbed to the roof and lay on the cold stone and stared at the clear desert sky. Gaara sat nearby, cross-legged and quiet, as he'd been every night I'd seen him when I was little.

"Abura-kun said once," I mumbled, "that Eiri was a point-and-shoot ninja. We just put weapons in his hands and send him on his way."

"All shinobi are like that," Gaara pronounced quietly. I didn't say anything.

"That… girl," he said finally, and from the concentration in his voice, I knew he was going to be asking some hard questions. "The one you… brought…"

"Isane?"

"Yes…" He frowned. "She… loved him?" The word sounded odd coming from his mouth.

"Yeah," I said. "She does."

He was trying to form a question, so I saved him the trouble. "Young people… don't _usually _love the same person really long periods of time." I sat up, looked at him, made sure he was listening. "Yes, we're thirteen. But we're also ninja. We grow old early and don't change a whole lot. With a few obvious exceptions, of course."

"That is… strange."

I lay back again, looked up at the stars. "I know, isn't it? We adapt and alter and modify ourselves every day to save our lives, but we've already molded ourselves to our orders and our fate and we never really grow without… emotion…" I was silent for a moment. "I was never good with that rule."

It suddenly occurred to me that I was _having a conversation with Gaara_—and no arguments or threats of death hung over our heads. It was… It was actually quite pleasant, but it made me nervous.

I opened my mouth to protest it, but he cut me off.

"Why did you… become a shinobi?"

"Because my mother made me," I said promptly. The reason I joined, not the reason I stayed. "Why did you?"

He was silent a moment. I thought he wasn't going to answer.

"To be… the demon."

No surprises there. What else was he going to do with that chakra, run an animal shelter?

We were silent for a time, me plotting my escape. However, I had no chance to put my plan into action, as he, surprisingly, spoke again.

"My mother… wanted me to kill."

I froze.

"Gaara-sama," I said carefully. "Do you really want to tell me about your mother?"

He looked confused. "Isn't that what's… fair?"

I sat up, blinked at him. "But… I didn't tell you anything _about_ my mother. I just said… she made me become a shinobi."

"That says… a lot."

Slumping back down, I returned my gaze once more to the stars. "Yeah, I guess it does."


	51. Interlude: Doubt

A/N: Whoops, totally blanked and forgot it was Thursday… ;;; Anyway, this is just a brief interlude to bridge the one-month gap between 46 and 47 (yes, I cut off in the middle of their conversation; use your imaginations ;D).

-o-

_I can't do this._

_That's all I know. It's the only thing that reverberates inside me with absolute certainty, the only conviction in my life just at the moment. The only thing I know without any doubt, and it doesn't have anything to do with Gaara._

_Why is that so wrong?_

_It's not. It's not, it shouldn't be—but it is. Inside my head, it is._

_I didn't have time to break down._

_I had to keep the rest of us alive. You know this. You __**know**__ it. I had to tell that lie, had to pretend it was ok, had to keep us moving. It was my only chance to lose control over the loss of someone I _cared about_, and I blew it. Wanna know why?_

'_Cause I'm a ninja. Because I had to _keep us going. _Because… because…_

_Because he wasn't Gaara._

_I cried. Oh, I did—and I didn't know what else to do, either. Didn't know what to say. Couldn't save him._

_But I didn't ever break down. That moment was lost in the overpowering need for survival, and a day—a week—a month later, when I had time to lose it… I couldn't. _The moment was **gone**_**.**_

_I kept looking for it. I __**did**_**. **_I stumbled through my days and prayed for the right place to let down my guard, let go of my shadows, let fall my tears._

_It never came again._

_Shinobi aren't allowed to cry._

_Shinobi aren't allowed to lose control._

_And shinobi aren't allowed to have doubts._


	52. A Birthday

A/N: Uhhh… GO CUBS! :D (Now I've alienated all the non Cubs fans who will promptly stop reading this fic… Sorry. DX I didn't have any other author's notes to add… Oh wait. I drew Isane! :D :D :D

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/66-Traps-97681591

Mm… Yeah. I dislike Mondays with little sleep. DX Enjoy.

-o-

I'd intended to simply leave my mom a note—"Going on another mission, don't worry"—but there were several fallacies in my plan.

First off, my mother was going to worry no matter _what_. If I'd left her a message telling her I was heading to my room to take a nap, she would panic and rush upstairs to make sure that's what I'd done.

Eiri's death had her scared.

Honestly, it had _me_ scared, too.

The second problem was that she was actually _home_.

This was a surprised because she'd not seemed to like daylight in her house recently. While the sun was up, she was in someone else's home, gossiping, chatting, what have you. When the sky darkened and the air dulled, _I _tended to abandon the place, as she filled it with light and color and sound and _people_—all things I tried to avoid in my line of work.

Every once in a while, I vowed to discover where she was getting the funds for these parties, but so far, I hadn't had the heart. I was a little scared of what I'd find.

"Takara-chan, you're home!" my mother squealed with delight, burying me in her arms and skirts as if I were a small child still—or again, maybe.

"Not for long, Mom," I mumbled into her crimson ruffles, wondering how she could stand to wear such clothing. "I've got a mission and—"

"No," she said firmly, proving she could hear me despite the layers of cloth I was suffocating in. "After that poor child's death, I've decided to remove you from the Shinobi Corps. It's too dangerous for my little girl. Plus, tonight's party is for _you_. For your birthday." She held me out at arm's length, beaming like she'd granted my greatest wish.

I didn't know which issue to address first; it was all I could do to stop myself from crying right then. She'd probably take them for tears of joy.

"Mom," I choked around the thickness in my throat. "You can't just—take me out of the Shinobi Corps. You put me there and—I'm stuck." I wasn't sure exactly how true this was; could genin retire? But I wasn't leaving now. "And—Eiri-kun d-d—_left_ over two months ago, Abura-kun's even out of the hospital…" After the burning of the funeral pyre, he'd collapsed, far closer to death than I'd ever been from chakra deprivation; it had taken several transfusions of chakra to even stabilize him. "—and—" Actually, I didn't know what telling her about the elapsed time would do; certainly it wouldn't comfort her. Maybe I was just trying to tell myself she _knew_, she wasn't crazy. "And, Mom, _I'm_ not in danger, I'm good at hiding, and this mission's _easy_ and—" I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling water gathering on my lashes.

"Mom, my birthday's not for another _six_ _months_."

The smile slid off her face to be replaced by a stern look. "Now, don't be ridiculous. We're getting you out of those nasty ranks and bringing you home." _We?_ "And I think I know your birthday, having given birth to you, Takara. Don't contradict me."

I swallowed, lowering my eyes. "Yes, Mother. Let me—I'll go talk to my Sensei about… quitting. And I'll be home for the party. I—promise."

"Good girl," she said approvingly as I slipped out the door.

-o-

Abura had the missions details, and I had to go find him, but instead, I wandered the near-empty streets for a while, thinking. I'd taken to hiding in the shadows as I walked through my hometown: Not only was it cooler during the day, but my… _association_ with Gaara seemed to have come into the open, and mutters tended to follow me around. I got tired of it.

_I really should go find Abura._ But all I could think of was my mother. _For your birthday. _Was she trying to distance the occasion from my father's death, or had she just deteriorated too far?

Once again, I promised to discover her monetary supply. Once again, I doubted I would really try.

I kept hearing her words, and I didn't want to. _Too dangerous. For your birthday. That poor child's death. Dangerous. Child's death. Death._

_This is _your_ fault._

I ran into Chie-sensei, not looking where I was going, and dropped my hiding jutsu. She took in my solitary state and asked wryly, "Collect Abura-kun yet, Takara-chan?"

"I want to take up the sword," I said in place of an answer.

My tribute to Eiri.

-o-

Chie-sensei didn't tell me no, she told me that it was not the time to discuss it and I needed to go fetch Abura. I hoped that meant she would teach me later, because I didn't fancy teaching myself.

Where there's smoke, there's fire, as they say, so I followed the smoke to Abura. Unsurprisingly, he was burning something—wood. Surprisingly, they were distinctly… clog-shaped. As in shoes.

"Abura-kun," I said, "what are you burning?"

"Some shoes my dad sent me."

"They were made of wood?!"

"Hence why I'm burning them."

I just stared.

"Cheh. The only thing they were good for was fire," he muttered, and I thought he might have flushed, but it was probably just the flames.

"Er… Why did he give you a pair of wooden shoes?"

"For my birthday."

I frowned. Last I'd known, Abura's birthday was almost two months after mine. "It's your birthday?"

"No."

"…Oh."

I almost laughed with—what, relief? Empathy?

"Well," I said, marginally more cheerful. "My mother's holding a birthday party for me. Tonight. Want to come? We could celebrate yours, too, since your dad's not here to do it!"

He looked up at me, the ghost of a smile touching his face where one hadn't been since Eiri's death. "Cheh, I think I'll pass."

"Yeah, I'm pulling for the mission instead," I agreed brightly. "It sounds like far more fun."

-o-

We were walking back to meet Chie-sensei when it occurred to me that we were one genin short of a squad.

"Abura-kun," I ventured, "is Isane-chan coming on this mission with us?"

He snorted. "Cheh. She's a traitor. The Council can't trust her. The shinobi can't trust her. She was supposed to assassinate a Council member. She's not a shinobi of ours."

"You're forgetting that she's a—a 'traitor' to _her _village, not _ours_," I protested angrily. "She gave that mission up."

Smoky bitterness writhed in his eyes when he looked at me. "Cheh, Takara-chan, _I'm_ not forgetting anything. Traitor once, traitor always. Cheh. Who says she's telling the truth?"

-o-

Despite this argument, I sane stood beside Chie-sensei in the center of the barren training field when we reached it. The former Kumo-nin seemed rather subdued, though her blue eyes brightened when she saw me.

This didn't make me feel any better. I was willing to bet she had a question for me, and this mission's pay said I wouldn't know how to answer it.

"Takara-chan, did you get the mission details from Abura-kun?" Chie-sensei inquired as we approached. I saluted smartly and said, "Yes, Ma'am," just to see if I could get away from it.

"Perhaps, Takara-chan, you should try telling the truth once in a while."

"Why would I want to do that?"

The jōnin crossed her arms, a smile tugging at her lips. "Why didn't you?"

"I was talking to Abura-kun about other things."

"Let us see what Abura-kun has to say to that." She turned her dark eyes on him. He snorted.

"Cheh, we talked a _little_. Not the whole way here."

"Way to support your teammate, Abura-kun, thanks. A great tribute to Eiri-kun _that_ is. _He _was very supportive."

His expression froze on his face. I winced. There were too many wounds there that hadn't healed over enough to let me joke about it.

"Cheh, look where that got him," Abura said before I could apologize. My eyes widened.

"Enough, people," ordered Chie-sensei. "We have a mission to complete, whether or not you know the details." I hoped she wasn't going to make me help without knowing exactly what I was doing. That seemed like a Baki punishment. Also, a stupid one. "Abura, you _do_ need to support her lies, because everyone's lives could depend on it at any given moment. And Takara, how do you expect to carry out your mission without knowing what it is?"

"With great difficulty," I admitted. "Is Isane-chan coming to help?"

The azure-haired jōnin frowned at my change of topic. "I've convinced some of the Council members that we'll never learn if we can trust her if we don't let her try."

"And I was goin' a bit crazy, just sittin' around doing nothing," the former Kumo-nin put in brightly, with only a shadow of her old vigor. "Chie-sensei got me out for a bit, Kori-chan."

Haha. Isane was going a bit crazy. I almost laughed.


	53. A Perception

A/N : OK! Ch. 48. Just to give you advance warning, there's going to be two weeks between chapter 49 and 50, and another two weeks between 50 and 51. This is because I want 50 to be a super long one, in honor of fifty, and, well… I'm about a fifth of the way there. D: Also, I started writing up the contest details, and I want to know… Do you guys have any ideas for prizes? What would _you_ want? :D

Oh, and today is Abura's birthday! :D :D :D Calinee543 wrote a _wonderful_ fanfic for it; you can find it here: www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/4555419/1/EveryYear I love it so much! It's not 100 canon, but you can gain some insight into Abura's past from it. ;) Thank you!!

-o-

Apparently, a squad of Kansei-nin had been located at the edge of Wind Country, and we were being sent to… _disperse_ the group. I wished that meant we would only have to scatter them to the four winds, but it was likely they'd just regroup. There was going to be killing involved.

We were heading for the sentinel cliffs of Suna when Isane caught up to me, grabbing my wrist. I halted, hesitantly turning back to look at her. _Here it comes…_

"Kori-chan, I was thinking…" There was a certain sort of desperation in her eyes. "Just—tell me. Did you… did you lie to him at the end, tell him he would be ok?"

Somebody somewhere owed me some money. I had no idea what she wanted to hear.

"Er…" I stared at her, praying for some sudden divine inspiration. I could tell when people lied to me, but I couldn't read their desires in their eyes. "I—yes. Yeah, Isane-chan, I—I did. He died happy." The last bit, at least, wasn't a lie.

To my surprise, I saw disappointment in her expression instead of relief. I'd chosen the wrong answer, it seemed; she'd rather have heard something else. Something… closer to the truth.

But I couldn't take it back now.

-o-

As the sky grew dim, the restless shifting sands beneath our feet turned to dry and thirsty earth, spare vegetation scattering the cracked landscape. For most of the trip from Suna, I'd been unable to shake th feeling that someone was following us, although I couldn't _see_ anyone.

After a while, I realized that when the stalker feels like she's being stalked, she should pay attention. I stopped trying to shake the feeling and started looking harder.

When we stopped for the night, relief washing over me as the shadows did, Abura announced that he wasn't tired, so he would take first watch. A flash of something—fear, shame?—in his grey-blue eyes—not to mention the fact that he could barely stand; I guess he wasn't fully recovered yet—had me patiently explaining to him that he couldn't lie to the liar.

His response was a little _less_ patient.

I couldn't figure it out, either, from what had been in his eyes. Just like I hadn't figured out Isane's hope, Isane's desperation.

I was going to have to work on this emotional comprehension thing.

Just like Gaara. Huh.

I was on third watch, sitting in the cozy darkness with no light but the stars and the crescent moon above. My knees were pressed against my chest, my arms wrapped around them; I pondered Abura's desire for first watch, though he could have rested.

I just about had it figured out when Gaara appeared beside me in a swirl of sand. Jumping about a foot in the air, I swallowed a few choice swear words, not sure of the reception they would bring.

"Gaara-sama," I said, alarmed, "what are you doing here?"

"I want to… help."

I struggled not to let my jaw drop. "D-don't you have your own mission?"

He shrugged. "Temari and Kankuro have gone to sleep."

I took that to mean they had just returned from one. "…_Why?"_

"They were… tired. The mission—"

"No, I mean—why do you want to help?" I was a bit desperate by now, not sure how this was going to end.

His brow furrowed. "I thought… friends… helped."

I swear, I almost choked to death right there. "Friends… Gaara-sama, do you… understand… what… friends… are?"

He really looked a little bit bewildered. "I looked it up… in a book. It said a friend was… a person whom one knows… who is not hostile…"

His definition was a little lacking.

"It's—a bit more than that…" The words seemed rather reluctant to leave my mouth, possibly due to the large lump of astonishment that was still choking me. "Friends—talk—and tell each other things—and—"

Honestly, this only seemed to confuse him more. "We've… talked," he pointed out, frowning.

I gave up.

"Gaara-sama," I said firmly, "if you would like to help, we'd be honored to accept your aid." I glanced over at my sleeping comrades, wondering how many of them were really asleep and how many of them would really be honored. "Thank you."

He didn't respond to this, as if 'thank you' was not in his vocabulary, so he had nothing to say to it. Then again, it probably wasn't.

I really, really wished there was something I could say to decrease the tension, to make the awkward go away. So far, my wildly jumping mind had come up blank.

Instead, Gaara spoke again, surprising me. He was becoming downright talkative. I suspected that would go away when he stopped needing to learn so much.

"Your sensei said," the red-haired shinobi began slowly, "you should try… telling the truth."

"Jeez," I muttered, not thinking too much. "How long have you been following me?"

His icy gazed bored into mine; I dropped my eyes so that the hole was being drilled into the side of my head instead. "How long have you been following _me_?"

Mm, fair point. Since 'almost eight years' seemed too awkward an answer, I stayed silent. He waited a moment, as if his question hadn't been rhetorical—did Gaara know what rhetorical questions were?—then went on.

"And you told—the fire-user—"

"Abura," I offered.

"—that you were a liar. But…" He frowned. "You told _me_ that you… don't lie… Are you—"

"A liar? Yes," I mumbled, wishing to curl up into a ball and hide in one of the cracks in the ground. "But I don't… I _never_ lie to… you." The last word issued forth in a very small, very quiet voice. I almost hoped he wouldn't hear.

"Why?"

Damn. His favorite question back to haunt me.

"Because—" How had I put it before? "You… mean a lot."

Not his favorite answer. Confusion wrinkled his brow; he started to ask for clarification, but I mumbled, "Ask a different question, please."

"Why… do you lie?"

"A different different question?"

Persistently, he stared at me, obviously not liking the idea of having to repeat himself.

"Because—" I'd never had to put it into words before; I hesitated. "To… hide."

He frowned. "To hide what?"

"I… don't really want to answer that," I mumbled diffidently.

"To hide what?" he repeated slowly, stubbornly.

I almost glared at him, but kept my eyes downcast and glared at the ground instead. I wasn't quite confident enough to actually glare at _Gaara_. "To hide the truth, I guess," I muttered, just a little grumpily.

"Why?"

If I heard that word one more time, I was going to scream. I _could not_ answer it.

"Gaara-sama," I attempted quietly. "Have you ever lied?"

He frowned again. "I have never needed to."

No, of course not. _"I'm going to kill you" _doesn't leave much room for dishonesty.

He was wrong, though, I realized. _"I don't need anyone but myself"_ could only ever be true on the surface.

Not that I was going to say that to his face.

"Sometimes, it's just something I need to do," I said hesitantly, wishing for all the world that I could lie to him right here and end the conversation. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. "To hide—to save someone—or just for myself…" That didn't make much sense even to me.

"Is it because you believe… they will… think poorly of you?"

I stared at him. Apparently, he was a perceptive little demon, once he started learning.

"I never thought of it that way," I said cautiously. "But… it makes sense. Gaara-sama—" I hesitated. "Where—why—how did you come up with that?"

I wasn't quite sure if I phrased the question correctly, but for once, he seemed to understand. "I've read… a lot of books. At night."

But of course. What else to do when you can never sleep?

"You should try… telling the truth."

My jaw fell open. He was looking off into the distance—where _I_ was supposed to be looking, to check for approaching enemies—and didn't seem to notice that I was staring at him. My mind worked furiously, trying to figure out if he was implying something by that or just clueless as to the full impact of his words. Gaara of all people should know how hard it was to simply change one's _nature_.

"I'm dreaming," I managed probably an hour later.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, the monster's got a good idea." Abura's voice was low and hoarse, so quiet that I just barely caught the words. He obviously didn't want said monster to overhear.

He mumbled something like, "Mebbe oo shood—"

"You're going to have to speak up," I said crossly. "I may have decent hearing, but I am not a bat."

"Bats don't—"

"Abura-kun," I growled.

"Cheh." He rolled over, facing away from me again, though I had oh-so-politely turned around to listen to him. "Maybe you _should_ try telling us all the truth. Cheh. A _challenge_."

He cupped a small, weak flame in his hands, and I realized that the night only got darker as it progressed. Abura wanted—needed, maybe—the light from the dying sun, wanted to be asleep when the darkness came to call. No wonder he'd taken first watch.

I glanced at Gaara. He gazed coolly back, not comprehending what he was asking me to do, with icy pale eyes that made me look away again.

Taking a deep breath, I said doubtfully, "Ok. But nobody's going to believe me."


	54. A Smile

A/N : Chapter 49… The next one's 50. Who can believe it? Not me. Plus, I'm already to 500 reviews—omiGaarathatspureamazing—thanks so much to Liz, who got 500th review! :D :D :D -mass glompage- That's HUGE! It's more than I ever would have imagined in my entire life… I'm going to die. :) :) :) YOU GUYS ROCK! I love you all, even if I haven't been replying to ANY of my reviews, and I have, like, 140 of them… DX But I read them all! I promise! And thank you soooooo much!

What else… Oh yes. Lots of important stuff:

1) I got really confused and said, "Chapter 50 will not be next week, but the week after, October 13." Next week IS the 13th. DX Whoops... But you'll like this: It's going to be about 15 pages. Try complaining about too short a chapter now. ;)

2) After Chapter 50, there's not just going to be an extra week between 50 and 51, but… a month and a half! D: D: D: Don't eat my soul… please. I need it. DX Seriously. Why am I taking a month and a half break from Obsession? Because I'm a super-good multi-tasker… except when it comes to writing multiple things at once. ;;; Aaaaaaaaaand I have several friends who have convinced me to continue writing my Bakura fanfic. (If you want to read chapter 1 of said fic: ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/When-the-Candle-Goes-Out-99584597) So… that was _going_ to be the reason. But then I remembered… NANOWRIMO! (National Novel Writing Month) Remember Script Frenzy, waaaaaaay back in April? NaNoWriMo is the same thing, with a 50,000-word novel instead of a 100-page script. And it's in November. So I'm taking a bunch of time to write this super huge chapter to carry you through until **December 1st, **which is when chapter 51 will be posted. Also, this will be the due date for **the contest**, which I will announce October 13th, on **Chapter 50.** ;)

3) Speaking of the contest, I want to know what you guys want as prizes! ;p

-o-

Actually, Abura believed me because he was in on it; Gaara believed me because he seemed to take everything at face value—at least for now; and Chie-sensei believed me because she always knew.

I tried to explain it to Isane, who just looked at me miserably, smiled weakly, and made it impossible for me to tell whether or not she believed me. She was getting far too mopey. I resolved to cheer her up. Eventually. Somehow.

"Hey, Isane-chan, wanna come to my birthday pa—"

I stopped, horrified. Not because I'd skipped my mother's so-called birthday-party-for-me—I'd already known I was going to do that—but because I hadn't even given her a thought. Sure, I'd assumed that, with her deteriorating mental health, she'd probably forget me around party time anyway, but still… I should be worried for her. I _was_ worried for her.

But instead, I'd spent the night talking to the very same monster with whom she'd used to threaten me as a child. Oh, where was the irony?

Stabbing me in the face, that's where.

I sighed under my breath. Isane stared at me, a tad puzzled. "Kori-chan?"

"Cheh, how come _I_ don't get an invite?" Abura demanded.

"I invited you yesterday!" I retorted, delighted to be joking with him. "You turned it down!"

"So you're inviting her to a party that's already taken place? Cheh, that's harsh."

I glared at him, restraining a smile. He'd been firing off questions all morning, which I neatly evaded by informing him that 'just because I'm telling the truth doesn't mean I _have_ to answer,' until Chie-sensei told him to be quiet before she taped his mouth shut. In not so many words.

Gaara had disappeared again, though I kept getting glimpses of twirling sand tornadoes out of the corner of my eye, and it was starting to get very distracting. I'd told Chie-sensei he seemed to be traveling with us, but I couldn't read the expression in her eyes at the news.

"Y'know, Kori-chan," Isane said thoughtfully as we walked. "I think that red-haired guy you stalk is funny."

"What? Funny how?" Hope rose in my throat. Funny meant cheery, right? Not mopey? "Wait… how awake were you last night?" I added suspiciously.

"I dunno. He just is," she replied absently, avoiding the question. Very suspicious.

I frowned. "You do realize that he's here, right?"

"Takara-chan, what's your favorite color?"

"Abura-kun, what the hell kind of question is that?"

"Cheh, I just wanted to know if you'd answer truthfully."

"But favorite color?" I arced an eyebrow. "Since when do shinobi have time for favorite colors?"

"Colors take up time?"

"Is it red?"

"Red? Why red?" He cast a significant glance behind us—toward the _red-_haired Gaara—and I rolled my eyes. "I rather suspect it would be black."

"Cheh, black's not a color."

"It's a very stealthy color."

"It's _no_ color. It's black. Like the night."

"Making it very stealthy."

"Cheh."

"_Cheh_ yourself."

-o-

The Kansei shinobi were no longer where the scouts had reported them to have been, but they didn't seem to be paying much attention to potential stalkers and were fairly easy to track. Our journey carried us a few extra days into the trees at the border of Fire Country; Gaara didn't walk with us, but followed in repeated twists of sand that I kept seeing out of the corner of my eye. After the third time I jumped two feet into the air, I almost considered asking him to stop and just travel like a normal person, but thought the better of it.

It was midafternoon now; I, being the best at hiding, had been sent ahead to scout.

Creeping through the shadows, I kept my eye out for traps—which were really Isane's specialty, not mine. Once, I landed flat on my face, but I think that was a root hidden in the dappling gloom of the trees. The forest was _not_ my home.

Concentrating intently on not triggering any alerts, I nearly wandered right into the enemy camp. They were sprawled on the ground and in trees, relaxed, chatting, spread out— I deduced that these shinobi were, for the moment, content on hanging around here for a while.

_Hmm… Is that so…_

I studied them for a few minutes, looking for some details. Six genin—three male, three female—seemed to be lounging about the camp, as well as two adults—their senseis—and several other full-grown shinobi.

Plus someone whose very presence made my blood run cold.

The torture-man.

But… that _couldn't_ be right. I had killed him—bile still rose in my throat at the taste of his blood—I'd plunged a kunai into his brain. People didn't survive that—_especially_ not if I was there when they _stopped breathing_.

Heart pounding so loudly it threatened to give me away, I slipped as quickly as I dared back to my team.

-o-

"Thirteen," I reported, and winced. Abura raised an eyebrow.

"Superstitious, Takara-chan?"

"When you grow up stalking a story," I muttered, "some things get to you." I glared at him.

"Hush," Chie-sensei ordered the pyro. "Takara-chan, go on."

"Two full genin squads—that's six genin and two jōnin—plus four other adult shinobi who, to be frank, looked rather inept. No one was very… alert."

"That's twelve, Kori-chan. The thirteenth?"

I took a deep breath, knowing this was information I _had_ to reveal, though what it would do to Abura… "Mock my superstitions now, Abura-kun. Eiri-kun's _murderer_ is the last."

Blank stares all around. Only Gaara didn't seem too affected, but blank stares were his specialty anyway.

"Cheh, you're lying."

I cast him a reproachful look. He scowled.

"Then—_cheh_, you need your eyes checked, Takara-chan! You killed him."

_And are you jealous of that? _"Trust me, I know." I swallowed hard. "I remember. But unless he had an identical twin—entirely possible, I suppose—that's the guy."

Abura's eyes hardened. "Cheh, then, let's—"

"No," interrupted Chie-sensei, and I saw that her eyes were blazing. I thought to glance at Isane, and she looked… downright ecstatic, it was creepy. "We are not going in without a plan, people."

"I've got one." I smiled. It had been forming since I'd seen the enemy so… unprepared to go anywhere. "Well… Ish." A second glance at Isane spurred new inspiration. "It's gonna need lots of traps… And, Isane-chan, it's gonna need you to smile."

-o-

Isane produced so much rope out of her seemingly nowhere that it was reminiscent of Eiri and his weapons. Some of it was chakra-made, of course, but since she needed that to _set_ the traps, her ropes were mostly real.

As she worked, constructing ambushes, snares, nooses, pitfalls—everything—all around the enemy camp, I watched her contorting her face into strange expressions. It took me quite a while to figure out that she was trying to force a convincing, light-hearted smile like the one she used to wear.

"Cheh, this plan is full of holes," Abura muttered, crossing his arms and scowling.

"What plan isn't?" I replied, keeping my voice low. "At least you get to use your fire, Pyro."

"Cheh."

"Kori-chan, I really think you should be the one doing this," Isane whispered, setting her final trap and rejoining us, face ashen.

"Can't, Isane-chan, I have to manipulate the other shadows, too. Blame Chie-sensei, it was her addition to the plan. You have to be the little girl."

"I'm taller than you are," she pointed out, almost desperately.

"With a brighter smile," I emphasized quietly. "The little girl ghost with an unfaltering smile—it's the perfect trap."

For some reason I couldn't fathom, she flinched.

-o-


	55. A Fire

A/N:**It's after midnight, so I give it to you now. :)  
**

Here it is. Chapter Fifty. The big five-oh. Halfway to 100…

…

…

CONTEST TIME!! :D :D :D

OK, here's the contest: **Tribute to Eiri.**

I think that's pretty open. :)

You may write or draw—or, if you have some other idea, whatever you want! :D So any medium is acceptable… and as long as it tributes Eiri, go for it. :D

If you write, you can post it on FF (or dA), and PM me the link. If you draw, you can post it on deviantART and PM me the link… or I suppose if you have another art site you are on, that works as well. :) Be sure when you send me the link to replace the periods in the url with "(dot)"—like I always do—as FF doesn't like links. XD If you have an image and you are not logged on to an art site—and, for some reason, can't be—PM me and let me know. We can work something out. :)

The contest will end on the day I post Chapter 51. That will end the contest on **December 1st.** (If you did not read last chapter's author's note: 1.5-month break between now and 51.) Since I post chapters in the morning, I suggest you get the link in by the day before. ;)

I will not be judging the entries. When the contest is over, I will post a poll with all the links to the entries and have you guys vote on them! :D That way, it's more fair, since I can't exactly say I'm un-biased. XD

First place will receive: A cameo (probably in chapter 55), a promised drawing of that character (although I can't promise how soon you will actually get that drawing DX), and (if you so desire) I will read and review up to two chapters of a fanfic of your choice. :) (I add this because I get a lot of people asking me… and I don't have enough time to do it for all you guys. TTTT) _And_ I will go through and reply to all reviews you have left me that I still have. XD

Second place: I will read and review up to one chapter of a fanfic of your choice, reply to all the messages from you that are in my inbox, and allow you to choose any original character from Obsession for me to draw. :)

Third place: Replies to all your messages. ;;;

I hope these aren't lame prizes… you guys didn't tell me what you wanted, so… yeah, obviously I put the most effort into first place… I don't have a ton of time. ;;; If you win and you have something else in mind, you can ask, but I can't promise I'll say yes.

-o-

I won't lie: It bothered me that the last and only time I had done this, it had been to a corpse and that corpse's former best friend. Not the best way to put it. Not an optimal amount of experience.

I swallowed. Hard.

And it was suddenly like someone had punched me in the gut. Stopping dead, I wrapped my arms around my stomach, biting my lip, fighting back tears that threatened to drown my vision.

I knew what this was. I'd been waiting for this moment for a month, waiting for the day when it would hit me. _Eiri is __**gone**_**. **

"What's wrong?" Abura demanded, face suddenly inches from mine.

"Nothing," I mumbled, stumbling on, wiping away the salty traitors in my eyes.

"Liar," he accused, and walked on.

-o-

A faint breeze stirred the leaves, brining scents and sounds so unfamiliar to us desert-dwellers. I wrinkled my nose slightly, wishing I could discern something—anything—from that burst of air. Back home, we knew from the wind when a storm was coming, could tell by the breeze when night would fall. We were all at a disadvantage here.

Oh well. At least we had surprise on our side.

"Um, is that a _caravan?"_

Then again, so did they.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, what do you _think_ it is?" Abura hissed in reply.

"Those are—they have—horses?"

Apparently, the pyro could not possibly fathom my confusion. I received only a glare in answer. At least, I assumed so; I didn't see it, because my eyes were locked on the camp, mouth open slightly in astonishment.

Practically crowding the Kansei-nin out of their own camp were two large wagons and six horses, as well as a host of other people. (OK, not exactly caravan size, but you get the idea.) They were all making quite a bit of noise, milling about and talking and laughing, easily covering our whispered semi-conversation.

"Wagons burn really well," Abura murmured, eyes alight with anticipation.

"So does the forest," I snapped, alarmed. "Konoha will not thank you for burning down the source of its name. Besides," I added as an afterthought, "I'm guessing we should know what's in those, first."

He scowled, but didn't argue. He just muttered, "Horses are afraid of fire" instead.

-o-

Isane hadn't said a word, Chie-sensei was off in position, and I was half-afraid—ok, more than half—that Gaara wasn't going to hold up his end of the plan. Then again, we had… _confined_ his role to killing the shinobi who tried to stop us, so I suppose he wasn't crucial, merely important. Somebody else could do his job if he failed. (Key word: _if_.)

Yes. It killed me to say that.

Swallowing hard, I nudged Isane. "Your turn," I mouthed.

"It's not dark yet," she protested in a hoarse whisper.

"Sun's going down and I'm sick of waiting," I muttered, as if my patience should really have any bearing on our plan. "Eh… Isane-chan, the shadows now are perfect, that means it's time."

"Cheh, they've lit _campfires_," Abura was muttering. "What sort of shinobi _are_ they?" Light flickered eagerly in his palm, dancing with anticipation.

"The amateur kind," I said, then pushed Isane gently forward, wrapping her in swatches of concealing shadows. "Go for it, Pyro."

Isane squeaked and fell forward as, in the camp, each of those foolish campfires flared high. They reached for the branches of the trees above, snatching eagerly at the verdant leaves and not failing to catch the attention of every living creature in the camp. Abruptly, they died down, leaving things as they were, except for a campful of staring people and several slightly panicking horses.

Taking a deep breath, I slid into the shadows and snuck into the camp, keeping an ear out for Isane's words.

"_Mommy?"_

Even expecting it, I nearly jumped a foot in the air, I was so startled by the eerie voice coming from seemingly nowhere. I exhaled sharply and glanced around; I think about half the people in the camp _had_ jumped a foot in the air.

Breathing in and struggling to stop the shivers running down my spine—that girl was _creepy_—I turned to my work. As Isane continued speaking, her voice quavering and soft, I began sawing through the horses' tethers with a kunai.

"Mommy? Mommy, I—I miss you. Where are you?" The words crawled over my back, persistent, chilling in a way I hoped was affecting the Kansei-nin as well. Somehow, I guessed she wasn't _quite _just acting.

"Mommy, please—I can't see you!"

With those words, I let my kunai fall limp, appreciating sadly that Eiri could have been through _all _these ropes in about ten seconds. Twisting around, I began, tentatively, to manipulate the darkness concealing Isane.

Shadows writhed and twisted, drawing back from the girl standing halfway into the camp. Combined with the innocently flickering fires, they cast her face into a bizarre and mildly creepy light.

Or that might have been the smile.

Taking a moment to look up, I almost dropped the jutsu entirely; the roiling gloom froze for a moment, threatened to fall.

In the face of that smile, it was _easy_ to forget she was tall.

A little girl stood there, blue eyes wide, smile so open and… and… _childish._ Mouth agape, I really couldn't do anything but stare; luckily, our opponents were similarly entranced by the apparent arrival of a child's ghost.

A nearby fire flickered dangerously. The pyro's warning.

Snapping my mouth shut and swallowing around the stone in my throat, I returned my concentration to dancing the shadows across Isane like puppets across a stage. She faded in and out as she walked, chakra glowing blue around her and suffusing her with an unearthly shine. Behind me, I heard several of the horses stamping their feet nervously and seriously hoped I didn't get trampled, as they were now _loose._

Oh, damn. _Horses are afraid of fire. _They'd been relatively calm during Abura's first display, tied to their wagons and scared, but tolerant. But in a minute, there was possibly going to be a raging firestorm—ok, slight exaggeration—through here, and the horses that weren't loose were definitely going to be. Ropes weren't that strong.

And guess why was right in their path?

Well, besides everyone, I mean. Who _isn't _in the path of a stampede?

Maybe I could be intangible long enough to slip through a wall, but not long enough for six frantic horses to crash through _me_.

I hurt just thinking about it.

Of course, _after_ it hurt, I would probably be dead, so it wouldn't hurt anymore. That would be all right.

Except that I would die by Gaara's hand. _That_ would be what was right.

Isane wandered up to a seated shinobi, somehow managing to look completely lost while her smile never faltered. "Tell me a secret," she begged, leaning in close. "I wanna know a secret. Where's Mommy?"

Behind her, a kunai took flight.

_Oh, hell. So not everyone's so disarmed by the little girl ghost._

No way could I turn _Isane_ briefly intangible, not from this distance with no practice and a huge drain on my chakra already in effect.

_Eiri will stop it._

…_No, damn it, he _won't.

I flung up the shadows around her and prayed that somehow she ducked, because I couldn't pull her down.

I thought I heard a squeak of pain and I cringed, biting my lip. But there wasn't time to verify anything, because that's when the camp exploded.

Suddenly, there was nothing but fire.

Hell raged around me, and I knew that there was no way Abura could ever let this one go. If he even survived it. If _we_ even survived it.

Well, at least I didn't have to worry about being trampled, because the horses were probably torched.

"_Pyro, what the hell are you doing?!"_ I yelled desperately, but the storm of heat roared too fiercely and the words were torn away.

The fact that I wasn't dead yet told me that this hell probably wasn't as bad as it looked—somehow—but the fact that my skin felt like it was about to peel off and let my insides melt definitely was not improving my outlook on life.

Something hit me hard in the back, knocking me to the ground. Ok, horses not so torched. A rib or two snapped, driving my breath out of me; cringing, I waited for the sharp hooves to come down and crush more of my bones, but the animals' attention had apparently been diverted. Thanking the higher power that had saved me, I struggled to rise—and discovered as my hair singed that I was not actually standing _in_ the fire at the moment, no matter how much it looked like it.

On the other hand: _Hello_, ubiquitous, raging conflagration. I was going to be in it _soon_.

Abruptly, something wrapped around my middle and yanked me backwards, probably breaking another rib and sending agony shooting through my torso. I cried out, the sound once again lost in the roar; my vision blurred with tears, the heat and pain and sudden movement making my head spin.

But I recognized the grainy feel of the sand around my middle, and I didn't fight it as it dragged me upwards.

Heat and light and sound sharply decreased; fresh air washed over my face, and the cool, welcoming shadows of the trees and the night.

Taking a deep breath, I decided I could get _used_ to trees.

"Why aren't the trees burning?" I asked suddenly, but quietly, opening my eyes.

Gaara regarded me silently, crouched on the limb, sand settling back into his gourd. "I… do not know how your teammate's chakra works."

"Apparently, neither do I," I muttered, and then my head snapped up and I stared at Gaara.

He had saved my life. Oh, Sands Above, _Sabaku no Gaara_ had _saved my life_.

My head spun, and I almost threw up. _Too much, too fast._

"What is the problem?" he demanded coolly.

"What isn't?" I mumbled, then said louder, "At least two of my ribs are broken, nothing new."

Gaara frowned. "Does it… hurt?"

I smiled weakly. "Yes."

He was silent, pondering. I stayed quiet, too, until curiosity and a little bit of fear pushed me to speak.

"Gaara-sama… Do you know where the others are?"

He was still staring at me; I saw only barely a flicker of startlement at the honorific, nothing more. "The girl… Mizu. My sand pulled her down… but the kunai still wounded her. I would assume… that your sensei is still out in the forest."

So they could all be dead. Nothing but blackened bones.

Where the hell was that pyro?

-o-

"Oh," I said darkly, as the fire slowly died away. "There he is."

I wasn't quite sure if the shadowy bundle that was Abura in the night was unconscious or not, but to be honest, I wouldn't have been surprised if he was dead. Actually, I thought it was likely.

Especially since he wasn't moving.

Forgetting my injuries, I jumped down into the ash, burning my feet as I landed on a still-hot patch of ground. Wincing, I lost my balance, burning my hands as well. Chewing my lip to hold in the whimpers of pain, I limped across the cooling ground toward my fallen squadmate.

"That damn firestorm burned for an _hour_," I muttered, kneeling beside the dark form and shaking it roughly. "And it was—freaking—_huge_. And why the hell aren't we dead? And Abura, _wake the hell up!"_ I shouted at him, hot tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. "I. Will. _Not_—"

"Cheh, 'Kara-chan, shut up."

His words were no louder than a breath, but I caught the gist of them, and almost started crying with relief. "Damn pyro! That's the second time in—in—in not enough time—that you've drained your chakra to—to absolute zero. You're going to die, damn it!"

"Cheh, gotta push yourself to your limits, else you'll never get stronger."

"You won't get stronger if you die, either!" I growled.

"Cheh, 'm not gonna die. It was _not_ absolute zero."

"Just shut up and tell me why I'm not dead."

Weakly, he raised one singed eyebrow. "Chakra signature."

Patiently, I waited for an explanation. About ten seconds later, I nearly started banging my head against a tree. Possibly _his_ head.

"If you aren't going to tell me what's going on with you and your stupid fire, tell me why you killed Isane and ruined our plan," I snarled, hands clenched into fists.

"Cheh, it was a bad plan."

"Better than yours! And it didn't involve any of us _dying!_" I couldn't decide whether to strangle him or merely curl up and cry my eyes out; I was about ten seconds away from doing both.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, my plan at least had a _goal_—"

"Such as _what, _killing everyone we _needed? _Your major fire display was supposed to be the final straw to scare them out into Isane's traps so Chie-sensei could secure them, it was not supposed to be a damn _explosion_ to _destroy_ all chances we had of _questioning_ anyone! And you wanna tell me what was in those wagons? Because now we'll never know! And now Isane—"

"Takara-chan, shut _up!_" He rose to one elbow, irritation creasing his brow. "Cheh, just go over and check where the wagons are, there might be some remains, and—"

"Remains of _Isane?"_ I snarled, standing up. "Thanks, I really—"

"_She's not dead!"_

"Tell that to her bones!" I kicked a blackened lump—which I think had actually belonged to one of the horses—scattering it across the ground. "I'm sure they'll agree!"

"Cheh, grow up and _look around_," he snorted. "Or at least have some _common sense_, Takara-chan."

"My common sense says that no one could survive that blazing hell!"

"Then what the hell are _you_ doing alive?"

I growled at him. "I don't know, you won't _tell me, _damn it!"

Sensing his presence behind me, I suddenly realized that Gaara was standing there watching me lose my temper at my teammate over a girl not even from my own village. I spun around, eyes wide and desperate, to find him a few feet away, regarding me silently.

"Perhaps you should calm yourself," he suggested quietly, gaze driving through me. I bit my lip, closed my eyes, looked away.

"Abura-kun," I said very, very quietly, but impressively calmly. "Explain yourself now before I murder you with this kunai and I might let you live."

He collapsed back to the ground, closing his eyes. "Cheh, you kill me. That's a laugh."

"And I can guarantee you won't be laughing when it happens."

I heard Gaara take a step closer, rustling through the ashes, and stiffened. _"Please."_

Sliding his hands behind his head, he opened his eyes to look at me again. "Chakra signature. You're marked with it. That's why you didn't burn, like me. Cheh, and Mizu's been around long enough, she's marked with it, too."

"OK then," I snapped. "What the hell marked the trees with your chakra signature?"

"Cheh. My _control." _He narrowed his smoky eyes as if he didn't think I could believe he had any—which I didn't. "I _learn._"

With great difficulty, I shut my mouth and took deep breaths. "You are trying to tell me that you held complete control over that raging inferno," I said flatly, trying to ignore the fact that Gaara was standing right behind me.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Takara-chan."

Slowly, I sank to the ground, coating my dark clothes in ashes. "Then where the hell is Isane-chan, Abura-kun? Or, for that matter, Chie-sensei?"

"Cheh, dunno about her, probably still in the trees with the ninja that escaped."

"And how many of _them_ were there?" I said sourly. "Two? Where's Isane?"

"Cheh! Why don't you get up and _look_?"

-o-

"Traitor."

"No."

"Cheh. Then where is she?"

"Probably buried among the ashes as nothing more than bones, pyro. So much for chakra signatures."

"Cheh, you're drawing this out too long. It's time to stop looking."

"Because all I'll find is bones?"

Of course, I chose that minute to stumble across the caravan's remains, tripping and landing on hands and knees.

In a pile of seared and tarnished bones.

Unable to decide whether to scream or throw up, I did neither. But it was a close thing.

"What. The. _Hell_."

"The wagons."

"Thank you, Abura-kun, I think I figured that one out."

"Cheh."

"This… this is a lot of bodies."

"Cheh, no, it's a lot of bones."

"Shut up and tell me what the hell is going on."

"Cheh, like I know."

"That is a hell of a lot of people that you killed."

Suddenly, I was standing up again; Abura had grabbed me by the back of the shirt and yanked me to my feet, then spun me around. Abruptly, I found his face in mine, an almost-snarl baring his teeth. "Takara-chan, _stop it. _Cheh, I did _not_ kill those people—the wagons were full of _bodies_—and I did _not_ kill Mizu, and I do _not_ have any more idea of what is going on than you do, _teammate_, because, cheh, if you'll _recall_, I was _unconscious_, due to trying to fix yourfailure of a plan."

"Not that _your_ plan was any less of a failure," I said icily, and inside, I was scared to see Abura like this.

Without warning, gritty ropes snaked around my wrists and Abura's, yanking us apart. The bindings released us almost immediately; Abura stepped back, rubbing his wrist angrily; I pivoted to stare at Gaara.

"This is not the time," he said coldly.

Heh. Gaara was playing peacemaker. Oh how the world was turning upside down.

It was that more than anything that calmed me down.

I looked at the ground and breathed in, trying to work out some plan of action around the miasma of emotion clouding my thoughts. "Ok," I said finally, still gazing intently at the ash-coated forest floor. "Let's go find Chie-sensei."

-o-

And wouldn't you know it: She was missing, too.

"Please, somebody kill me now," I muttered, but not too loudly, in case the wrong person overheard. I knelt beside one of Isane's traps, where Chie-sensei _should_ have been waiting; it had been triggered, but was empty.

"Cheh, now what're we going to do?"

I almost said, 'How the hell should I know?', but changed my mind at the last second.

"We're going to Konoha."

"Is that… wise?"

Biting my lip, I raised my eyes to Gaara. "Probably not. But I don't want to go back to Suna without Isane-chan and Sensei, and maybe the Kansei-nin fled deeper into the forest, where it's easier to hide."

"That is… a long way to travel."

I looked back down. "Yes it is."

But it would be farther to go home without a friend.

Again.

-o-

"Abura-kun, I think you killed them all," I mumbled, wearily rubbing my eyes with one trembling hand. We had been traveling for three days with almost no sleep—a breeze for Gaara, but exhausting for us—taking the most circuitous route possible in order to look for any signs of fled Kansei-nin or Chie-sensei and Isane. So far, we'd found none.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, trust me. I didn't."

"Yeah, well, I'm having trouble with that right now," I muttered, but let it drop, instead kneeling to examine a broken branch. As if I could tell whether an animal had snapped it or a shinobi.

Heh. Same difference, really.

"I smell… blood," Gaara said quietly.

Abura stiffened, disturbed; I, on the other hand, relaxed, absurdly comforted to hear something… _normal_… from the demon. Rising, I suggested softly, "Lead the way?"

He pointed, but didn't move, preferring to bring up the rear.

-o-

Isane's broken body lay slung over a tree branch, arms hanging limply, blood trailing delicately across her pale skin. My lungs froze, my heart skipped a beat; even Abura was over to the tree and crouched in its branches, trying to free Isane, before I could move again, _breathe _again. Disbelieving, I took a few, quavering steps; a wave of sand brushed by me, swirled up the tree, and closed around Isane, lowering her to the ground.

I forced myself to walk over and kneel beside her as the sand drew back. Gaara followed me, and a moment later, the desert moved once again across the former Kumo-nin, crushing the last remnants of life from her body.

I choked.

"G-Gaara-sama," I whispered. "I know she was badly injured, but if we had gotten her to a medic—"

But I'm not sure he even heard me. Abura had already jumped down from the tree and was busy losing his temper in Gaara's face. "She was still _alive_," he snarled, fists clenched and flickering with fire. "Why the _hell _did you _kill _her? _Tell me—_"

"Abura, don't order Gaara-sama around," I growled.

The red-haired shinobi looked straight at the pyro, seafoam eyes stopping him cold. Sparks still danced around his hands, but no more words raged from his mouth.

"She was not… real."

It took a moment for this word to filter through; when they did, I nearly collapsed into a puddle of relief. Shock registered across Abura's face, quickly replaced by narrow-eyed skepticism.

"Cheh, how do you know?"

The question I had wanted to ask, but not dared. "Think about it, Abura-kun. It makes sense, with all these fake people running around—"

He rounded on me, smoky eyes smoldering. "Takara-chan, don't tell me you don't want to know, too. Cheh, you have no reason to believe this monster."

"Yes. I do." My voice was low and dangerous; I couldn't help it. "Stop. Just stop."

"_Cheh_. You _stop_ defending that weapon over your own teammates."

I took a step closer. "And what about _you_, defending the girl you call a traitor over the son of your Kazekage."

"Suna _has_ no Kazekage," he snarled, before we found a wall of sand between us.

"Not. The. Time," Gaara said dangerously.

I sagged forward, leaning an arm against the wall and resting my forehead on it. "OK. We are going to _sleep_, damn it, because we aren't going to _find anyone_ if we all murder each other." Not that Gaara was actually close to murdering us. That seemed pretty significant to me.

The sand wall dissolved; I fell forward, throwing my arms out, and collided with Abura, knocking him backwards onto the false Isane. He leapt back up, now covered in blood and on the verge of exploding again.

"Cheh, I'm gonna go find a stream," he muttered instead, and stalked off before I could persuade him that we should stay together.

I sank to the ground, burying my face in my hands.

"I will watch," offered Gaara quietly. "You… sleep."

"You'd be a good Kazekage," I said suddenly, words muffled.

He was perfectly silent for a minute, probably shocked—maybe repulsed—by the idea. Finally, he asked hesitantly, "What… do you mean?"

Sighing, I dropped my hands to my lap and sat there staring at them. "You keep breaking up our fights… You saved Isane and me back at the enemy camp." I paused, laughed shortly. "You never sleep; perfect for all that paperwork."

Then I looked up at him, standing a few feet away, and asked softly, "Aren't you tired, Gaara-sama?"

"The strength of the demon keeps me awake," he said coolly. My gaze fell back to my hads.

"Still… That doesn't mean you're not tired."

For a moment, only the unfamiliar sounds of the forest at night cut into our quiet. Then, unable to stand it, I sighed and curled up on the ground in a patch of new grass. "Please, wake me up when Abura-kun comes back."

-o-

Cold water dripped on my face, waking me from some irrelevant dream seconds before someone shook me roughly. Eyes sliding open, I stared up at Abura, his dark hair plastered to his face. He'd never liked water all that much, but apparently, he liked the sticky, tainted sensation of blood even less.

"Abura-kun," I said ponderously, "I never asked you. When's the last time you saw your dad?"

"Cheh." He scowled at me and proceeded to ignore the question entirely. "Your demon said you 'wanted to be notified' when I came back." Then he stalked to a spot a few feet away and sank to the ground.

Actually, that had only been half of what I wanted. But then, I guess it would have been weird for him to come wake me in the middle of the night.

I glanced up at the tree where I knew he sat and drifted down into demon dreams.

-o-

"I can't even be sure," I muttered impatiently, sitting with my arms around my knees the early morning mist, "that you're actually Abura."

"He is," said Gaara quietly before the pyro could respond.

"Cheh, you can't be sure that's really Gaara, either," Abura growled, eyes flickering dangerously. To disguise the hurt.

I glanced at Gaara, then at the ground. "I think I would know."

Abura snorted, but didn't say anything; I didn't look to see Gaara's reaction.

"Cheh. It's time to go."

Hastily, I scrambled to my feet. "Yeah. Let's go. I think—"

That there were now two new people standing in our 'camp.'

Abura had a fireball in his hand instantaneously, and Gaara caged the two in sand the second he spotted them; I, on the other hand, stood gaping for a few moments before their arrival registered in my brain.

"Eh, Unari-san?"

She blinked, then grinned. "I remember you!"

"Yeah… Gaara-sama, you can let them go," I said softly. The sand loosened and dropped, although it did remain coiled around their ankles.

"This is my teammate, Zaregoto Tatsumaki," Unari said brightly, waving at the short boy with shoulder-length, sky-blue hair and brown eyes who stood beside her. "He's actually two years younger, became a genin early, and—"

Hastily, I cut her off before she started another detail-rant that gave away more than she wanted to. "Either we're closer to Konoha than I thought, or…"

"Well, we're ranging pretty far, looking for our other teammate, have you seen him?"

"Er… What does he look like?"

Too late, I realized my mistake and got an inch-by-inch description. "Your Hokage must _love_ your mission reports."

Unari blinked and smiled. "Oh, probably. Have you seen him, then?"

"No. We…" I hesitated. "We're looking for some people, too. Have you seen anyone not from Konoha around?"

"Thick, wavy azure hair and—"

"That's Sensei," I said immediately. "Where?"

"She's in the village with—"

"Thank Sand," I breathed, relieved, not thinking to listen to the rest of the details. "How far to Konoha, then?"

"Head straight south for a day at a speed of—"

"Straight south is good, thanks, Unari-san," I interrupted quickly. I regretted the necessity of cutting her off, but we were exhausted, even with last night's rest, and we weren't making very good decisions without Chie-sensei. "Good luck finding your squadmate, nice seeing you again, and nice meeting you, Tatsumaki-san, uhhh…" I trailed off, trying to figure out what I'd missed. "Oh, and thank you _very_ much."

With that, I reached out and snagged Abura's wrist, dragging him away and resisting the urge to look back and see if Gaara was following.

-o-

We couldn't have been happier to see Heaven's gates had we been dead when we reached Konoha. I didn't even make it all the way to the towering wall; I just sat down in the grass and looked up at it.

"If Chie-sensei isn't here…"

"Cheh, she'd better be."

It was about that time that the sentries demanded to know who we were and what we were doing; some careful explanations and evasions got us inside. I promised I had an urgent message for the Hokage; despite narrowed eyes from Abura, I didn't consider it a lie, as I figured we should probably warn her of the threat.

That was my excuse, anyway.

Of course, our case _was_ helped by the fact that Uzumaki Naruto conveniently appeared on the wall while we were trying to explain our situation.

"Heyyyyyy, Gaara-kun," he yelled, leaning over the edge so far that I thought his frantically waving arm was going to pull him off the wall entirely. Gaara, totally disarmed, stared back without any idea of what to do. I sighed and resisted the urge to hide.

Up on the gates, Naruto was now arguing with the sentry shinobi about letting us in. Pretty much all I heard was "C'mon, guys, it's _Gaara_," but apparently, something he said was enough, because we were admitted to Konoha.

Naruto came down to meet us.

For a few moments, he chattered on to Gaara—who didn't say a word—then turned to us, grinning like a maniac, absurdly pleased to see three people who had been his enemies _last_ time he'd seen them. I smiled weakly in return.

"Hey, I'm Uzumaki Naruto, who're—" He cut off in midsentence, eyes growing wide. "Ohhh, youO're that girl who was with Gaara when we fought! Heh heh." Grinning wickedly, he nudged the red-haired shinobi with his elbow. (Only I saw him flinch at the unexpected—unfamiliar—contact.) "Got yourself a girlfriend now, lucky guy!"

I barely resisted the temptation to bury my face in my hands—and my_self _in the shadows. I wondered if Gaara understood the implication and decided not to ask.

"We're on a mission," I said firmly. "Have you seen a female jōnin from Suna with long blue hair around?"

"Uhhh… Nope! Sorry!" He grinned again. "D'ya mind if I take Gaara here on a tour while you look for her? I'll take good care of him, I promise." I swear, if that smile got any wider, it was going to split his face in two.

"And I _never_ go back on my word! That's my _nindo_: my ninja way!"

"Oh," I responded blandly. "Well, I never lie. That's _my_ ninja way."

Behind me, Abura snorted with disgust. Ah, yes, I'd failed. Oh well. I liked lying better anyway.

Darn Uzumaki.

"Great! Good luck finding your jōnin!" Without more hesitation, he practically dragged Gaara away, leaving Abura and I in his dust.

I stared after them for a minute, then ordered, "Go find Chie-sensei."

"Cheh, what're _you_ gonna do?"

"What I do best," I muttered, and slid into the darkness.

-o-

It wasn't that I didn't trust Naruto with Gaara, really. I did believe he'd take good care of him. After all, Naruto understood, didn't he? Because he had changed Gaara, showed him that there were other ways to live.

And I still owed him for that.

So maybe it was just the cool comfort of the shadows that made me go after them. (Or maybe it had just been too long.) But it made me nervous.

So I followed them.

And you know what? Uzumaki Naruto really _did_ take Gaara on a tour of Konoha. Feature that.

Naruto talked pretty much the whole time, too. I swear, he asked Gaara questions and never gave the redhead a chance to answer. But sometimes he did, listening wide-eyed or grinning as Gaara spoke slowly, haltingly, uncertainly. _Frustratingly, _I could never get close enough to hear.

Then I discovered just how out-of-practice I was when I was so intently focused on catching up to Gaara that, darting from shadow to shadow, I tripped over Nara Shikamaru napping under a tree. Scrambling to my feet, I spun around to find him peering lazily at me through one half-open eye.

"Oh," he sighed. "It's you."

Crouching down, one hand in the grass for support, I frowned at him. "Remember that jutsu you sort of half taught me? It saved some lives. And then it got my teammate killed."

I half expected him to pronounce Eiri's death _troublesome_, for which I would have possibly had to stab him. Instead, he said, "That's too bad… But… what did you want me to do about it?"

That was probably fairly close to sincere, I decided. Not that he should have had to be, for a death that was almost entirely unrelated to him. "Nothing," I said. "I just wanted to… thank you, I s'pose. I would be dead now without it. Our squad would be three people short instead of just one."

"Hmph. Woke me up just for that. Troublesome girl." He sighed, eye sliding closed again. "They always are."

"Actually, I tripped over you," I pointed out irrelevantly, then slipped away, cursing that Gaara and Naruto had escaped my sight.

-o-

A/N: I dunno about you, but I missed Stalker Takara. :D :D :D

LOTS OF STALKERSHIPPING!! XD XD XD

(Takara x Shikamaru: Shadowshipping -shot-)

I fail at Naruto characterization. TTTT (The _nindo_ thing poked a little bit of fun at the anime… sorry. But every single time Naruto tells his nindo_, _he goes, "My nindo: my ninja way!" Like we don't know what nindo means by now. XD XD XD)

Um… Oh yes. Tatsumaki. My brother, for getting 400th review. :D

Unari briefly back… I'm afraid I don't remember which review that was for. ;;; (I promise to draw her soon… I picked out the pose today. Unfortunately, I'm sick and have a project to do… so it will probably be at least a week, still… Sorry! TTTT)

Speaking of pictures, Claam made a looooooovely picture of Takara! claamchowder(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Shadow-Stalker-finished-100285349

…Wish me luck with my NaNoWriMo novel! And see you in December. :D :D :D


	56. A Rescue

A/N : This is me. I have a lot to say. Mk? Mk. The contest! The contest was beautiful. I received eight beautiful entries that I am just so honored to see. -Armstrong Tears of Joy- The poll should be up—please, vote for whom you think should be the winner. Please consider not only the quality, but how well it tributes Eiri. :) :) :) And a HUGE shout-out thank you to EVERYONE who participated. Thank you SOOOOOO much. Every entry made my day. :D :D :D And also, I'm going to probably be messing with the prizes a little bit. Just because. ;) Voting will close December 30th, and the results will be posted on January 1st with the new chapter. :)

Moving on. This super beautiful chapter is written by the lovely amazing Apollo Pompano. A hundred cabajillion thanks to her for doing this, because after NaNoWriMo, my creativity went out the window. (Speaking of NaNoWriMo, my novel totaled 60,767words—yes, I won. :D) I had no writing ideas. But now this has been written for me and I'm raring to go.

BUT! I have a super busy month ahead of me. Obviously, Christmas is coming. Plus, I am taking the ACT in a week, and I have done almost no studying. And really, to list everything I have to do would take a bajillion years. So I'm busy. So, _hopefully, _I will post the next chapter on December 18. This is my plan. If the chapter does not come at this time, don't panic. I'll get it up as soon as possible. I'm going to try. K? ^^

So, anyway… Go check out the poll, and enjoy this beautiful chapter! :D

**Hi! I'm Apollo Pompano, and I'm still in shock that I got to write this chapter. And yes, that does mean that I'm the reason the chapter was late DX! **(But really, she's the only reason you have one at all! So love her. :D)

**I'm sorry for that.**

**Anyways, it's not every day that you get to be a part of your favorite fanfiction, so I'm very nervous about this, I hope I did a good enough job for you guys! Read and enjoy! **

-o-

It wasn't until two hours after they had split up that Abura found Chie-sensei.

At first glance, she looked to be asleep—or dead—but he knew better. He had been following an imaginary paper trail, asking shopkeepers and residents if they had seen her; and, if they would be so kind, which direction she was headed at the time?

To his surprise, the people of Konoha were extremely friendly, and pointed him in the right direction with smiles. He'd never really experienced such hospitality before; Suna didn't exactly take to people that easily. Weren't they afraid of assassins, or terrorists?

He walked into the shaded alleyway beside the quaint shop Chie-sensei had supposedly last been seen at. Half-slumped along the right side of the wall was a figure, a figure with wavy azure hair.

As he drew closer, Chie-sensei raised her head up. Smiling a bit, she said, "Abura-kun."

"Cheh, of course. Do you know how long it took me to find you?" he retorted.

"Sorry about that."

"Sure. Now come on. Takara'll wanna know that you're not charred to bits along with everyone else."

Slowly, Chie-sensei complied, not bothering to wonder why she wasn't stormed with questions.

That would come later.

-o-

"I am, in fact, not dead. I believe we've already established that, Takara-chan," Chie-sensei stated matter-of-factly, although there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

I smiled a bit in return. "Well, that's one."

To tell you the truth, I had breathed a sigh of relief when I'd spotted Chie-sensei with Abura. Although I wondered why Chie-sensei looked a bit... beat-up, to say the least. But the thought didn't hold long. Someone else was coming home. In one piece.

_Alive._

"What happened, Chie-sensei?" I asked. "Why couldn't we find you, why did you ditch us?"

There was a pause, in which Chie-sensei looked at both of us carefully and frowned.

"I was fighting with one of the enemy," she started. "He fled the camp and ran into me. In an attempt to dodge one of his attacks, sprang one of Isane's traps. He got away."

That would explain the small cuts and tears on her clothing and skin.

"Cheh, where's your demon, Takara-chan?" Abura asked sarcastically, earning a glare from me.

"He's not a demon. And… I'm not sure. The last I saw of him he was being dragged across Konoha by Naruto-san." I thought back to the last time I'd seen them both. They were somewhere by the forest and—snap, that didn't help. The whole _country_ was forest! They could be anywhere!

And, as if I had somehow telepathically called him, there was a sudden swirl of sand and both Gaara and Naruto appeared before us.

"Oh yeah?! Well, I bet I could—Hey, what happened? Where are we?!" Naruto sprang forward, shouting. He had obviously been in the middle of yelling—I mean, speaking with someone else.

Abura looked from Gaara to me, and a near-invisible smirk crossed his face.

"Good, then, Gaara-san, we were just about to look for you. We have to discuss plans, if you will," Chie-sensei stated, trying her best to be heard over Naruto's lively exclamations.

"Plans? What sort of plans? Does that mean Gaara-kun has to go? Aww, man!" Naruto complained all in one breath, sulking a bit at the end. "But hey, we had a blast, didn't we? Okay, I'll see ya later! Byyyeee, Gaara!" And with that, he jogged off to find someone else to annoy—I mean, talk to.

Now there was only Isane. The thought of what might have happened to her made me pale a bit. If she wasn't dead like I had thought, then... where was she? I bit my lip in worry as our group began to focus on the matter at hand.

"Alright, I take it no one's seen Isane, then." Sensei spoke with an authoritative air, which caught everyone's attention.

Gaara shook his head slowly, and Abura and I both replied, "No."

There was a silence, in which I suppose Sensei was trying to word exactly what she was going to say; and Abura, Gaara, and I didn't really know what to say at all.

Then, surprising us all, there was sound.

"She was...taken." It was Gaara's voice.

We all turned toward him, a bit shocked by the broken silence.

"Taken? By who?" I asked, curious.

There was another pause, then:

"By the enemy."

-o-

"Owwww...."

Isane slowly opened her eyes to the blazing midday sun. She squinted, and looked away quickly, her eyes not yet being adjusted to so much light. She tried to raise her arm in order to cover her eyes, yelping as sudden pain coursed through her body. Looking down at herself, she realized why. Through a crudely-wrapped bandage around her shoulder, she could see the edges of a fair-sized wound. Dried blood made the gauze stick to her skin and clothes.

She began to wonder what happened, when, of course, everything came rushing back.

She had gotten hit. There had been a _whoosh, _then something... gritty… had pulled her down, though the kunai had still managed to lodge itself in her shoulder. She'd squeaked in pain, and then... dark? She couldn't remember anything past that.

Growing curious, she surveyed her surroundings.

She was in a pit. A deep, dirt pit. At the mouth of the giant hole, where the light streamed in, there was a makeshift cage door covering the entire top.

So she hadn't fallen. She had been captured. But... by whom?

She looked up toward the light and saw some silhouetted figures shuffling around the top. She could tell they were speaking to each other, but she only heard mumbles.

"Great... Now what?" she mumbled to herself. There seemed to be no way out. The only opening was guarded and she was surrounded by—that was it! She was surrounded by dirt! She could dig her way out! But... with what? All her weapons were gone. She bit her lip in thought. She would figure it out, if it was the last thing she did.

And looking at her situation, it just might be.

-o-

_Stupid nin. Stupid, stupid nin' _This thought was followed by a slash, a slice, and a thudding sound as a body was robbed of life and fell to the floor.

The action was repeated once, twice, three more times, ending the lives of three more shinobi, and allowing me to advance a few more paces. That 'I think we're in the right place' I'd uttered moments ago was coming back to bite me with a vengeance. _Oh hell. Doesn't this just make my day? _

As I faced off with another one of the enemy nin, I heard more of the familiar sounds of death from either side of me. It seemed my teammates were also advancing on the enemy. That was good.

Abura seemed like a raging fire himself, torching anything in his path, making the Kansei-nin scream in agony and terror. He had been fully prepared for the sudden ambush of ninja. It was actually a little frightening.

Chie-sensei was to my other side, doing much the same as I was, only quicker and much more efficiently. She had claimed the most ground out of all of us so far, and began helping us out once she had gotten rid of the immediate danger on her side. She suddenly turned and threw a kunai in my direction.

I panicked for a split second, unsure of what she was doing, and ducked. The weapon whizzed over my head, and I heard it _splunk_ into something behind me. I turned in time to see another shinobi—of whom I had not been aware—crumple to the ground, lifeless.

I nodded in thanks to Sensei, quickly turning my attention back to the current foe at hand. I swung with my kunai, but the nin kept dodging. I decided to throw it, and whipped it at him, hoping it would hit home. Before it could make it to the shinobi, however, he was enveloped in a sudden burst of sand. He couldn't even register what had happened; the sand closed on him, crunching its way through his body.

That was another one down.

Gaara-kun was to the very far side of me, hardly moving at all, letting his sand take care of the enemies.

I thought back a bit, to how it had been Gaara who had actually seen what had happened to Isane, and had been able to guide us to where she had been taken by the smell of her blood. She was indeed wounded, he had stated as he gave directions.

This worried me a bit, for I didn't know where she was wounded, or how serious it was.

"Cheh, I think that's the last of them for now," Abura said, finishing off a partially burnt shinobi with a final blast of flames.

We all stopped to catch our breath; the sudden attack had taken a lot of energy out of us. I sighed with relief as all three of my current team grouped together. They were all alive, no major injuries, nothing more than some cuts and bruises.

"Where to now, Gaara-kun?" Chie-sensei asked him. As she spoke, she began picking up a few stray kunai and shuriken that were still usable and putting them in her weapons pouch.

I noticed a few, too, and added them back to my inventory, thinking of Eiri all the while.

Gaara was silent for a moment, looking around at the makeshift quarters we were in. Then, he spoke.

"That way," he said slowly, but confidently, pointing toward a break in the trees and foliage. We rested for a few more seconds, then headed in that direction.

-o-

As soon as we entered the clearing, we were once again swarmed by enemy shinobi. There wasn't really any sneaky way to get into the clearing; they had seen us coming.

We re-assumed our fighting stances, prepared to slash, torch, and crush our way through enemy lines once more.

Suddenly, the sand came.

Gaara raised his hand, and the grass under our feet quickly turned brown and withered as tiny particles of sand separated from the dirt and roots and rose up through the earth.

The group of Kansei-nin watched in awe at the spectacle, as did we. I wasn't sure exactly what to do, so I simply stood prepared, in case any of them should try and attack when we were distracted.

The sand continued to gather and rise from the ground, slowly being coaxed up by the master of sand himself.

All of the sand taken from the ground near us, he moved his hand again, and the portable desert sprang into action. In one fell swoop, it had completely surrounded the shinobi, who were now just waking from their state of awe. But it was too late, for the sand covered the group, and, with the simple formation of a fist, the life was quickly crushed out of them.

I didn't predict the amount of splatter that would come from the crushing. It was like a giant, red, paint-filled balloon had exploded in the clearing, coating everything it could.

I tried not to think of it as human blood, for fear that I might just throw up. I averted my focus by examining the clearing carefully, trying to find a place they could've kept Isane. I walked forward, looking around as much as I could.

Abura and Chie-sensei followed suit, trying to see if Isane was there.

I closed my eyes and listened for something instead. A bird... The wind rustling through the trees… and... a whimper?

My eyes flew open the same moment Abura exclaimed, "Isane!"

He was looking over the edge of a caged hole, where we watched as a familiar face crawled out from what looked like the start of a tunnel in the side of the pit, and smiled.

"Hey, Kori-chan....Abura-kun..."

She'd seen better days, that was for sure. Her left side was almost completely covered in caked, dry blood, and the makeshift bandage around her shoulder was falling off.

"Abura-kun, we need to get her out of here," I said, worried. If we couldn't get her to a medic of some sort in time, the wound might get infected. It probably was already infected, come to think of it.

"Cheh, I'm on it, _Kori-chan_." He scowled. "Isane-san, I'm going to need you to go back in that tunnel."

She followed his instructions, and as soon as she was in, Abura lit his flames and torched the cage lid completely off.

"Isane-chan!" I called as I jumped in, landing on the compressed dirt with a _thump_. She came out of the tunnel again, slowly, her left arm hanging limp. "We need to get you to a medic, Isane," I muttered as I helped her up.

"Thanks, Kori-chan." She smiled weakly.

It was a bit difficult getting Isane out of the pit, but with our combined efforts and Gaara-kun's sand, we managed it.

_Oh, thank Sand_, I thought as we turned to head back to the village. _She's going to be okay._

Little did we know that we weren't in the clear just yet.


	57. A Resemblance

A /N: VOTE! Please, guys, votevotevote for the contest winner! I have _twelve _votes. Twelve! This is ridiculous. I KNOW there are more than twelve readers of this fic. :P Please? If you can't find the poll, it's on my profile, at the top!

Also, check it out! More fanart by the lovely Aki! :D :D :D http://yoshijaz(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/37-What-if-105902916 Thank you!!!!

And one by me, as requested by the wonderful Claam. :P http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/65-What-If-105943711

OK. I intend to post the next chapter on New Year's Day, but I might not have a computer for a while… My brother has agreed to let me use his computer to post, though, so thanks, bro. :D

_**VOTE!**_ (Please)

-o-

"Where the hell are all these sands-cursed ninja coming from?" I yelled with frustration as my kunai slid through the throat of another woman. I turned my face away as sanguine liquid spurted from the wound, but still managed to catch some in my mouth. Grimacing with disgust, I spat it out, wondering if this was how one grew to enjoy the taste of blood as the demon inside of Gaara once had. Well, still did; I couldn't expect the Shukaku not to hunger just because its host was making more of an effort to control it.

His chakra diminished from his previous full-out attack, Gaara made use of his sand as sparingly as possible now, reminding me that my god was not infallible. It seemed he was learning to prefer—or at least appreciate—a bit of subtlety, since the gritty gold lurked among the grass, tripping unfortunate Kansei-nin and smothering them. At one point, I started lending my blade to the redhead, saving him the extra chakra expenditure of killing.

And maybe for a few other, less conscious reasons as well. Like to avoid reawakening the demon. Or to show Gaara it was possible to work in tandem. As a team.

But why push the matter.

"Cheh. For a non-shinobi village, they sure have a lot of shinobi," Abura observed, scowling, as the last enemy fell.

"Be grateful, people, that they appear to all be amateurs," advised Chie-sensei.

"And it helps that we have Gaara-sama," I added quietly.

Chie-sensei raised her eyebrow, but didn't say anything until she walked past me to move on toward Konoha. Without breaking stride, she murmured so no one else could hear, "Takara-chan, I think _you _have Gaara-san. Not us."

-o-

I would say, 'We weren't out of the woods yet,' except that's kind of a given. We wouldn't be out of the woods entirely until we left Fire Country.

Except I needed to desperately hope, because Isane was fading fast. Her injuries slowed her down to the point where Abura finally picked her up and carried her, drawing an amused smile from Chie-sensei. Being somewhat taller and stronger, she offered to take the burden—both of them ignoring Isane's feeble protests—but didn't push it when he just scowled.

Wearily, but pleased, I heard the former Kumo-nin mumble, "You're warm." Looking disgusted, the pyro held her out to Sensei. Chuckling, she gathered Isane into her arms.

"We need to speed up," I said, eyeing the blonde with worry.

"Cheh. Sensei should go on ahead."

"Yeah," I said. "But wait." Something had dawned on me. "Isane-chan, did they say why they were holding you captive?"

"Not to me," she mumbled dreamily. "But I heard, Kori-chan. To use my face."

"What?" Abura frowned. "Cheh, she's delirious."

"No," I said, comprehension and horror mingling together and rising in my throat. "It must be it. Why is the torture man still alive when I clearly killed him? Their chakra—"

"They wear the faces of the dead," said Gaara, and his eerily soft and emotionless voice drew silence from us all.

Chie-sensei glanced down at Isane, who had started to shiver, fresh blood darkening her bandage, and took off for Konoha. As she sped away, significant glances thrown back over her shoulder told us explicitly not to get us into trouble.

As if.

-o-

Cross-legged on the floor, I couldn't help but be acutely aware of Gaara standing a few inches behind me. In fact, I was so aware of it that my breath was starting to come more and more erratically. Sure that he would notice, I focused back on Isane.

The medic-nin had already done their work, locking us out while spouting a load of incomprehensible medical jargon. Not being a medic, I could only speculate at their meanings and Isane's issues, but I guessed infection… fever… Etc. Whatever it was, Isane still lay here, asleep, apparently healed but not well enough to leave. At least we'd been allowed back in to see her.

Gazing at her sleeping form, I asked quietly, "Chie-sensei, where is this going to end? How do we stop them? Beat them up until they listen to reason? But their reason is equality. Power. Burn down the village to _make_ them stop?"

"Cheh, I'm all for that."

"We take our intel back to Suna, people," she replied firmly, ignoring the pyro. "This is not a mission for four inexperienced genin."

My eyes flicked to the side, but I didn't turn my head. "I'd say three inexperienced genin. Except, at this point, if we're still inexperienced, what qualifies as experience?"

I didn't fail to notice that she, of course, had totally avoided the original question. But its repetition was interrupted. Of course.

"Hey, Gaara-kun, whatcha doin' in the hospital, huh?"

"Doesn't he ever shut up?" I hissed, and flinched as sand brushed along my back. _Right, they're friends. _But it wasn't an attack, or even a warning, just Gaara letting the sand settle after being startled into battle-readiness.

I glanced toward Isane, who had stirred, and panicked.

"Naruto-san, this is a hospital," I said, fighting to keep calm, biting down on the worry for my friend. "Please, you're going to wake Isane-chan."

"Oh, sorry!" he whispered loudly, poking his head into the room. "Is she ok?"

"She's in the hospital," I grated pointedly. He failed to take said point.

"Gaara-sama, please ask him to leave," I begged in a low voice as Naruto entered the previously-peaceful hospital room. "Isane-chan needs quiet."

The redheaded shinobi regarded me coolly, then moved to intercept the blond.

"Naruto-kun," Gaara said slowly, and the familiarity from him was strange and foreign to me. "The girl… needs rest. Please leave."

_Please._Oh, what was the world coming to.

"Aw, Gaara-kun," Naruto pouted. "I'll be quiet, I swear!"

His raised voice met some raised eyebrows; grinning sheepishly, he started to back out.

"Eiri-kun?"

I froze, and Eiri's face flashed through my mind. Blond hair, blue eyes. How had I not seen it? Combined with Isane's delirium, this threatened trouble.

Oh, Sand, did this threaten trouble.

"Isane-chan, Eiri-kun's not here," I said hastily, moving between the bed and the blond. She peered up at me with wide, unfocused eyes, which then darted to the side; she struggled to sit up and look around me. I resisted the temptation to throw out my arms and try to block her view even more. "This is Naruto-san."

"Eiri-kun," she murmured, dropping back to the pillows beneath her. "He burned, didn't he, Kori-chan?"

I exhaled slightly. "Yes, Isane-chan," I whispered. "He did."

An awkward silence washed over the room, broken only by so many different breaths. Isane's weary, erratic breathing; Abura's harsh and ragged respiration, brought on by the discussion of his dead best friend. No doubt he had noticed Naruto's resemblance to Eiri a long time ago.

"So, Naruto-san," I said loudly, wincing imperceptibly at my own ruthless shattering of the quiet. But it had to be done. "Why did you come to the hospital? Have a friend here, too?"

"Oh yeah." He looked like he had woken from a puzzled dream; I wonder if it had taken a lot of effort for him to stay quiet during Isane's delusion. "Actually, Granny Tsunade sent me with a message for Chie-sensei." He pointed to her. "She said it was real important."

Alarm flickered across Sensei's face, although it was quickly hidden. She rose to her feet, holding out her hand for the message. Naruto began digging through his kunai pouch, of all places, muttering about how he _knew_ he'd put it in there. I held in a sigh, glancing at Chie-sensei and trying to pick out the impatience in her eyes. I was finding it hard to see through her mask. _Can't lie to the liar. _Guess she could. Maybe it was just because I wasn't lying anymore. _Damn pyro. _How I wanted to.

"Here!" he announced, plunking it into her hand. Without a word of thanks, Sensei broke the seal, eyes scanning the paper and not expressing one whit of emotion. I bit my lip, waiting.

She looked up, and finally, her eyes told me something. "It's about the Kansei-nin, people. Time to go."


	58. AN: A Win of Epic Proportions

**A/N : (Don't worry, the chapter is coming just as soon as you're done reading this! :P)**

Wow, guys. I mean, _wow. _ I couldn't believe the response I got from the last AN. I mean, I almost started crying. I expected maybe, oh, five more people to be shamed into voting. The next time I looked, _thirteen _more had voted. And ten more after that the _next _time I looked. (I'm guessing most of you don't read Author's Notes?) I—oh, guys, it was beautiful. It was just beautiful. Thank you so, so much. A total of thirty-seven (37!) votes. That's more than one-third of the alerts on this fic. (Shame on you, almost other two-thirds! =D) To everyone who voted, either before or after the AN, PILES of plushis and HEAPS of hugs. Not to mention mountains of internet cookies. :D I love you guys. Thank you. I really did almost start crying. In fact, I'm so happy, you ALL win! XDDDD What do you guys want in response? A longer chapter? More TakaGaara (or InoOna XD) love? More contests? More drawings? Ask, and I'll see what I can do! :) (Try not to request anything individual though, like cameos or anything… this is supposed to benefit everyone. XD And don't ask for more frequent chapters. No can do. :()

Speaking of the contest, before I announce the winners… did you like it? Would you enter more contests? Do you want more contests? I have this plan for a write-your-own-chapter contest later; would you enter? FEEDBACK IS LOVE. :D

And now… the long-awaited… prize-list! XD (Because I modified it a bit.)

**To everyone who entered:** I'm working on getting through your guys' reviews/messages in my FF inbox. However, that seems an endless task. XD Still, I'm trying.

Also, I want to do a large Obsession pic… so everyone who entered may request _one _of Obsession's characters doing something. Hurry, because if someone else requested your character first… (btw, you _may _include a canon character if they have a part in the story. Like, Gaara would be ok, but Hinata, for example, shows up way back in the Forest of Death in about one chapter, so… don't pick her. XD Unless you're really creative. XDDD) And these are all going to be in the same pic, so we'll see how it works out. :D

**First, second, and third place** will each get a cameo. All three of you will be on the same team; you'll have to work together to decide your village. XD And your sensei. And I'll draw them all, too. Some day.

**Third place:** You may request that I read and review up to one chapter of one story, as well as one separate drawing of an Obsession character. Also, you may contribute one event to a chapter of Obsession. (I.e., you tell me what you want to happen and I'll add it in.)

**Second place: **You may request that I read and review up to two chapters of one story (or one chapter of two stories, whatever you want XD), and a drawing of any one character of your choice (doesn't have to be Obsession). Also, you may plan out one chapter of Obsession.

**First place!: **You may request that I read and review up to three chapters of _something_. XD As well as a drawing of one Obsession character and one character of your choice separately—or any two characters together. Plus, you get to GUEST WRITE A CHAPTER OF OBSESSION! (Thanks, Tap, love ya for the idea. XD)

I hope these are good prizes, no one really said what they wanted, so… I warn you, those drawings will take me FOREVER. :P

And now…. _THE WINNAHS!!!!_

**Third Place: **_I Guess This Is Goodbye, _by Apollo Pompano - apollo4(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/I-Guess-This-Is-Goodbye-ENTRY-103516494

**Second Place: **_The Good Ol' Days_, by Claamchowder – claamchowder(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/The-Good-Ol-Days-104073200

….

(I know, I'm obnoxious. ;p)

….

And….

**FIRST PLACE!: **_Halloween as Gaara, _by Aria Pedrosa_ – _www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/4593685/1/Halloween_as_Gaara

Congrats to everyone, and thanks so much to ALL who entered! I loved ALL your entries—and the voting was prettyclose! (I'm glad *I* didn't have to make a decision on the winners!) Of course, thanks to everyone who voted, too!

To the 1-2-3 winners, PM (or email, if you prefer, and you have my email) for your prizes. :)

And now your chapter. :D

-Kit


	59. A Shock

A/N: Hello and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! I hope you all enjoyed whatever holidays you celebrated! And here is your new and wonderful chapter, which I love. :D :D :D I mean, seriously, it was two a.m., and I was practically screaming with love. It inspired a very… TakaGaa next chapter. :D :D :D One of my favorites of those I've written. ;P

'**Ello all! Claamchowder here to introduce you to the next chapter of… THE OBSESSION! -cheers in the background- Anyways, I'm totally ECSTATIC to be typing this chapter, plus I get to try my hand at writing characters that are someone else's characters! OH JOY! :3**

**Kyehehe, imagine my shock when I was asked to guest write! I almost, ALMOST began to scream with joy and throw my laptop at my wall. But I didn't. If I did, I would be crazy.**

**Anyways, I'm proud to present my chapter of the Obsession! Enjoy! (I doubt you will though, Kit is SOOOOOOOOOOO much better at this. But ah well… XD) **(But I'm starting to doubt this for sure… I've willed _Obsession _to Claam should I die, so… :P)

-o-

When we had arrived at the area in which the Kansei-nin were causing trouble, I didn't even _dream_ of seeing the Inuka twins. Actually, I guess I sort of expected it, but not now, not after Isane had been placed in the hospital because of the people she _used_ to work with.

To put it simply, I was shocked; Abura, too, I think. Especially since we still considered them friends—well, friends who planned on killing us and stealing our faces, but friends nonetheless. (Not that the Kumo-nin did that, only the Kansei, but they were in league…) Anyways, once we'd made eye contact, the battle was on. Abura raced towards Hitotsu, which made me think déjà vu. It was the Chūnin Exams all over again.

Onaji, on the other hand, didn't seem as eager to fight me. I wasn't sure if it was due to it just being me…

…or the fact that I had Gaara standing only a foot or two behind me.

Anyways, whether he was eager or not, I charged forward, kunai at the ready.

-o-

"Cheh, never thought I'd see you fight so hard," was what greeted me soon after I had managed to knock out and tie up Onaji. I was about to reply with a casual "likewise," but I was interrupted by the not-so-subtle feel of grainy sand pushing me to the ground. For a moment, I panicked, fearing that the demon within Gaara had awakened, and demanded blood. However, once I saw the ridiculously large kunai embedded in the ground where I had been standing mere seconds before I was pushed, a wave of gratitude for the one for whom I would gladly risk my life overcame me.

"Thank you," I choked out, my throat clogged with surprise. "Thank you very, _very_ much, Gaara-sama."

I heard a quiet "cheh" from Abura's direction, which was followed by the sound of gasping. Looking over at my teammate, I noticed his eyes weren't glaring at Gaara like he'd normally do, but were wide with awe as he watched the battle that was going on between Sensei and… and…

The one who stole the face of Eiri's murderer.

Placing a tentative hand on Abura's shoulder, I tried my best to contain myself as he was. We both wanted to join in, to have that man on the ground dead, but if we learned anything at the Academy, it was the fact that, sometimes, you end up making things worse when you join in someone else's battle.

Especially when the battle was between two people who were so above you skill-wise, it was painful.

Kunai clashed with kunai as the two continuously attempted to lop off each other's heads, Sensei spinning gracefully with each dodge, and the green-eyed man ambling along, maybe not so gracefully, but just as successfully avoiding the blade that was meant to connect with his throat. A feral snarl twisted his lips as he lunged forward, but Chie-sensei wore a calm and collected mask, her eyes flashing each time she managed to knock his blade away.

They were moving at an almost breakneck pace, and it hurt my neck just trying to keep up with their continuous movements. "I'm getting dizzy just watching them!"

"Cheh, you're not the only one," Abura whispered in reply, his smoky blue eyes shining with awe at the sheer power the two were displaying.

This was the _final_ battle, our sensei versus the last Kansei-nin standing.

"Maybe… you should get to… safety." Gaara's deep voice seemed to bring me back to the real world, and the scent of blood returned at full force, almost making me want to hurl. I was so… mesmerized by the whole battle before me that everything around me seemed to disappear. Gaara (which is really surprising), Onaji, Hitotsu, everyone. Except Sensei and her opponent.

Nodding slowly, I went over to Onaji's unconscious form and looked down on him. He still looked like that goof I fought in the Chūnin Exams, yet… not.

Does that even make sense? Probably not.

Hefting him over my shoulder, I ambled to where Gaara stood, almost completely clean. No blood stained his pale skin, and in contrast to the bloody battlefield, he almost looked like an angel, no… _God_. Well, to me anyways.

-o-

When Hitotsu woke up, no complaints were uttered (unlike Onaji), but he didn't need to talk to show his displeasure. His eyes did it for him. Every time we'd move, so would his eyes. They'd follow our every movement, which was beginning to unnerve me a great deal.

If looks could kill, both Abura and I would on the floor with multiple puncture wounds, our insides on the out and blood everywhere. In short, we'd be _dead_. But not Gaara. Hitotsu knew better than to glare at Gaara.

"Cheh, where's Isane?"

"Don't act as if you don't know, you friggin' killed her." Hitotsu's glare seemed to intensify as he said that single sentence, but it was reasonable. He thought we killed her. Well, that's probably what his sensei had told him and Onaji.

"Why did you do it?" It was Onaji's turn to speak up, his voice sounding scratchy, as if he hadn't used it in a while. "You guys were friends, you didn't need to kill her." His usually cheerful self was gone, replaced with this gloomy little dude.

Nonetheless, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. I knew that it was totally _wrong_ to laugh in a situation like this, but…

"You think that's funny?!"

"No," I choked out through my giggles. "I don't find that funny at all. I just can't wait to see your faces when…" I purposely let the sentence drag.

"When _what?!_" Surprisingly enough, it was Hitotsu that spoke up this time. Rage was clearly evident in his eyes.

I didn't answer that question.

-o-

I must admit, trudging through Konoha with a couple of captives does not set a good impression of Suna for the citizens. With all the questioning stares I received on our way to the hospital, I'm surprised that I managed to suppress the urge to simply sink in the shadows and stay there for the rest of eternity. Maybe it was simply because if Gaara saw, he'd probably finally figure out that I've stalked him for the past… six or so years.

"Cheh, I don't see why we should even do this," Abura muttered from his spot beside Hitotsu, a scowl upon his face.

"It's the right thing to do." Shrugging, I continued to lead the trek to the hospital, which was less than a block away now.

Every now and then, I'd look behind my back, as to check how things were going with Onaji and Hitotsu, but in all reality, I was seeing if Gaara was still following from his usual spot behind us. I had to really fight that smile threatening to split across my face as I remembered the comment from Chie-sensei.

"_Takara-chan, I think _you_ have Gaara-san. Not us."_

I wondered if that was true. I mean, yeah, I also remembered that Gaara had said I was his friend, but he didn't know the true meaning of that, right? Still, every time I thought of it, I couldn't help but feel excited.

"Oi, Takara! Get your head out of the clouds!" Abura snapped, successfully pulling me out of my reverie. "Cheh, can't you see we're here?"

"Oh yeah, thanks."

"Cheh."

-o-

"Kori-chan!" Isane exclaimed, a worried look in her eyes as she looked at the multitude of scratches and scrapes I had from my scuffle with Onaji. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than okay," I said with a grin, trying my best to ignore Naruto's loud voice greeting Gaara. "I'm _awesome_."

"Cheh, _that's_ a lie," Abura commented from his spot outside the door. It was his job to bring in Hitotsu and Onaji when I gave the signal, so of course he wasn't allowed in yet.

With a huff and a roll of my eyes, I just gave the okay for him to come in with our two captives.

When they stumbled in the room, they hadn't even seen Isane; they were too busy glaring at my pyro of a teammate. However, once Isane let out a squeak of surprise, it was almost as if they had heard the voice of a dead person.

Oh wait. To them, Isane _was_ dead. Killed by us, in fact. So naturally they'd be surprised beyond belief.

"I-Isane-chan!" Onaji was the first to rush forward to her, though it looked awkward due to the fact that the top half of his body was still bound by rope. He was shortly followed by an unsure Hitotsu, who moved so slowly it looked almost as if he were afraid that Isane would disappear in a puff of smoke.

"J-Ji-kun? Hit-kun?" Isane sputtered, her blue eyes wide as she stared at her two (equally wide-eyed) teammates. "What are you doing here?"

"Cheh, can't you see? They were brought here against their will."

"Don't ruin the moment!" I hissed, shaking a fist in his direction.

"…Cheh."

-o-

By the time Isane had finished explaining everything that had happened (excluding Eiri's… death) to Hitotsu and Onaji, it had already been three hours since we arrived. It wasn't that the explanation itself was long, it was the fact that her teammates kept on interrupting, or Abura would enter in some extra information with his infamous "cheh" sprinkled in. That, and the three Kumo-nin (or to be exact, two Kumo-nin and an ex-Kumo-nin) kept getting off-subject.

Suddenly, I realized that we had left Chie-sensei on the battlefield. For all we knew, she could be dead. _Dead._ As in, not alive.

"Did you have _any_ idea how worried I was?!" The door slammed open, revealing a very beat-up and bloody Chie-sensei. And as a bonus, she was very much alive. A bit tired, but alive nonetheless.

"Cheh, nice to see you, too."

-o-

A/N: P.S. UPCOMING FLUFF!!! But you have to wait two weeks… sorry. I'm going to go with every other Friday now; I update _Sand Child _on the other Fridays…


	60. A Flower

A/N: First off, this chapter is dedicated to Claam. I've been meaning to do it for a while, but it just hasn't been right. Now, the time is here. Claam, this chapter is dedicated to you. :D Not only does she do awesome things like advertise this fic on her deviantart account, she totally set up the fluff in this chapter completely unknowingly. Thanks, Claam. Love ya. :)

Secondly, guys… Wow. As of now, I've just reduced my FF message-count down to… ZERO! And… wow. This means I've been rereading all your reviews—and, guys, the "thank you so much" I offer every time just does not even begin to cover it. Every time you say how much you love the characters, I just want to tear up. Especially you who say how you love Eiri _before _you read his death. It's so wonderful. :) To each and every one of you who has ever reviewed, thank you _so _much. I mean it with all my heart. And from now on, I'm going to try my very bestest to keep up with those messages, so I never get up to almost 200 ever again.

AND. As a celebration of finishing off my inbox, CHAPTER A DAY EARLY. (I had no school today, because of weather. :P) LOVE YOU ALL!!!!

Also, **Aki**, **destinykeyblade**, and **Kartoffel-Tot**, you guys still need to tell me whom you want in the communal Obsession pic. :) Abura, *spirit* Eiri (not human Eiri), Onaji, and Shikamaru are already taken.

**Apollo Pompano**, **Claamchowder**, and **Aria Pedrosa**, I _need _you guys to tell me about your village and sensei—and quick, because I want to write y'all into the next chapter. :D

One last thing. If you own Mario Kart Wii and ever find yourself racing Takara, Abura, Eiri, or Isane online, that's me or my brother. :P We had fun making Miis. :D (And I, at least, am certainly planning more. XD)

-o-

I thought Chie-sensei was going to snap and kill us all. I mean, she was _scared. _I had never seen her so scared. I don't think any of us had.

Her anger—a mask for the panic—cooled when I hesitantly point out that we were still in a room with a sick person. (Well, I dunno if it _cooled_, but she got it under control.) Granted, Isane looked much better, but the hospital smell all around reminded us very forcefully that she wasn't healed.

At least she'd had company. Apparently, lacking anything better to do, Uzumaki had elected to stay and irritate her. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been pleased that someone had been entertaining my friend, but… Sands above, _why _did he have to be blond-haired and blue-eyed? And _loud?_

Sourly—and with a hint of worry, too—I wondered if the somewhat delusional Isane had realized Naruto was _not _Eiri. I could only hope.

A few minutes of people-watching ensued. Isane seemed giddy with happiness to be back with her teammates—no, her _former _teammates—and I wondered how she could stand to leave them. (I could never voluntarily separate myself from my team like that, I knew; it was hard enough when they were torn away from me outside of my control.) She couldn't go back, could she? She'd never be trusted there again. She'd never be trusted _anywhere _again.

I looked at her laughing at her group of admirers—well, none of the four boys looked particularly admiring, but they were all gathered around her, and even Abura had cracked a smile. (Darn pyro, he should smile more often.) And I watched Isane giggling uncontrollably at something Naruto said, and I thought, _He will trust her._

And then I thought, _But she will always look at him and see Eiri._

Or maybe that was just me.

-o-

I found out that Isane's sensei, Hitomi, had been ordered by Kumo's Council to tell Hitotsu and Onaji that Isane had been killed, in order to not-encourage desertion. It made me feel a little better, at least, because let's face it, I didn't like disliking people if I could avoid it. If it was unnecessary. And Haruka Hitomi had seemed nice enough.

Shortly after the discovery, a girl with pale rose hair came into the room, ushering us out. I recognized her as Naruto's teammate from the Chūnin Exams—Sakura, it took me a minute to recall, though I couldn't for the life of me remember her surname.

"Mizu-san needs strict bed rest," said Sakura firmly. "And she's got the bed, but no rest." She smiled warmly. "Maybe this is a shameless plug, but you guys could go down to the Yamanaka Flower Shop and buy her some flowers from Ino. I bet Isane-chan would love for someone to brighten up her room."

Hm, Ino. I seemed to remember them fighting shamelessly during the Chūnin Exams. Maybe they had made up. Maybe they only fought when they were together. I almost wished I knew.

Onaji's dark eyes had lit up at the mention of Ino; I could almost _see _him imagining all the lovely poisonous flowers he would find for his former teammate's room. (I doubted, somehow, that the Yamanaka Flower Shop sold poisonous plants, but I also guessed that they still _had _them, and good friends could get ahold of them. Then again, I didn't know much about Ino; maybe she'd have the sense to keep dangerous flowers away from bedside vases—and Onaji in general.)

We filed out with little protest, although Uzumaki seemed reluctant to leave… until Sakura's warning "Narutooooo" had him scurrying after us, grinning with glee. I glanced back over my shoulder, and wondered just what they had talked about while we were gone.

"Chie-sensei," I began quietly as the seven of us lined up against the wall outside, "this might be getting a little redundant, but… what now?"

She passed a hand wearily in front of her eyes and, I thought, held in a sigh. "We'll be cleaning out pockets of Kansei-nin for months, but at least they weren't a _big _village… and it seems the civilians…" She paused, then said finally, "It seems most of the civilians will be missing pieces of their families now."

This time, she did sigh. "At least that man—or, really, whomever was wearing his face, because he could transfer it—was the _only _one with the face-stealing abilities, people. With his body burned, no one can use them anymore."

Her eyes hardened. "And trust me, Akashi Takara. He was _not _lying about that."

-o-

In the end, we did choose Ino's family shop as our destination. Because it seemed rather awkward to continue parading around Konoha with rope-cocooned prisoners, we untied the Inuka twins and merely rebound their hands. It actually seemed completely silly not to just let them go free, but they _were _technically our prisoners… even though they were our friends.

What a stupid world. If only we could just get along.

I hadn't believed that possible since I entered the Academy all those years ago.

-o-

"Welcome to Yamanaka Flower Shop—oh, Onaji-kun!"

The scrawny Inuka practically bowled Ino over like an excited puppy. "Down boy!" she laughed, pushing him off her. He stood beside her, beaming; and if he'd had a tail, he would have been wagging it. Hitotsu glared; I wondered if he was being protective or just annoyed that Onaji was making a fool of himself.

Chie-sensei explained that we'd come for flowers for someone in the hospital, and Ino—with a dazzling smile—launch into a description of which flowers meant good health and whatnot. I was interested—I was always interested in good information—but I tuned Ino out and turned to Gaara instead. I was more worried about him.

I could continue the dog metaphor, I thought, though it didn't fit Gaara quite as well. (Well, raccoon-_dog_, I suppose.) Onaji was the excited puppy, Hitotsu the wary watchdog—and Gaara the lost, abused stray that followed us around. It wasn't what I saw in his eyes—they were somewhat colder and more menacing than a battered puppy's—but what I saw in his heart.

Ha ha. How cheesy does that sound? It's true, though, in a way. It's what I had learned from watching him all those years: He hurt. Plain and simple, Gaara was in pain.

Never underestimate the power of a stalker.

Hesitating to be so blatant about it, I watched him inspecting the flowers with curiosity. They stirred as if in a breeze when his sand twisted around the brightly-colored blossoms—and, slowly, his pale hand rose to touch the soft petals of a lily. Sand flurried away from his fingertips, as if he could allow this tiny breach in his shield just so he could _feel._

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, just for a second. It seemed wrong that he should have to be so quiet, almost unnoticed this whole mission, like _he _was the one in the shadows. After all, I was in this for _him._

No—no, that wasn't entirely true. I was in it for everyone, for Abura and Isane, Chie-sensei… Eiri. For my entire village—for this village, too, for Shihai and Unari and, yes, Uzumaki Naruto… I was _in this_, I was a shinobi, so that I could do my own tiny part to save the world.

I opened my eyes and looked at Gaara, who was surveying a cascade of morning glories, and then I felt a little bit sick.

Because I knew that wasn't true at all. I was just in it for him.

-o-

Having swallowed my unease as best I could, I pivoted away to peruse the endless flowers myself. Not knowing what any of them meant, I just looked for ones I liked, instinctively avoiding the red ones. (If they reminded _me _of blood, they were sure to do the same for him.) Ino chattered on in the background, plying my friends with a lifetime's supply of blossoms. She was an excellent saleswoman; Isane wasn't going to have a single empty surface in her room.

After a few minutes with the tulips and carnations, I picked a bright blue flower that reminded me of the sunny desert sky. When I checked the label, I almost laughed out loud—that or started to cry, I wasn't quite sure which.

_Forget-me-not. _Except I was pretty sure I wanted him to forget me so I could go back to my leisurely life of spying. Stalking.

Wiping away tears (of whichever kind) I turned back around—and nearly jumped out of my skin when I found Gaara standing almost directly behind me.

With a brilliant blood-red rose resting in his outstretched palm.

Absurdly, my first thought was, _I guess being reminded of blood doesn't bother him that much after all…_

Then there was just this sort of mindless panic. Did he know what he was doing? I mean, did he know what it _meant? _He _couldn't, _could he? If he only understood the _dictionary definition _of friendship…

Realizing I hadn't actually dropped the forget-me-not—my fingers (well, entire body) had gone so limp I was sure I had—I held it up to him before my brain exploded.

And then, I _know_ I died.

Because he _smiled._

The world spun in circles and everything went quiet—although that might have been Ino and her customers in total shock, unless it was just _me _in total shock…

_No, no, no, this isn't right, I want to go back to the old Gaara in the old Suna with the darkness to hide me…._

I could have stabbed myself then—with that massive kunai from the Kansei camp. It was the most selfish thought I'd had since the cradle. I didn't want him to change? What the hell was that all about?

No, no, I knew what it was. It was okay for _him _to change—it was great, wonderful, _perfect. _I could cry with happiness, because maybe he had started to hide the monster away and show someone else to the world. But…

But I didn't want to have to change with him.

Well. What a selfish little child I was after all.


	61. A Dream

A/ N: Today is Gaara's birthday! (I had a party, made a cake ((which I'll have pics of later :D)) and ninja food pills and tacos and banana bread, hope you celebrated, too! :D) Hooray! :D And because of Silmarion's awesomeness, you get an extra chapter for Gaara's birthday. AND it's slightly longer than usual. Be happy. :)

Btw, guys, this story is now… OVER ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND WORDS!!!!!! WOOOOOO!! Cookies to anyone who puts it all into a document and tells me how many pages. XDDDDDD (Guys, don't do that, it's a major time waster. XD)

Also, fanart! Oh, I just love it when the time comes around to link you to fanart. :D

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/93-Give-Up-NEW-109396971

And a bunch by me:

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/What-If-colored-108308281

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/99-Space-108326685

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/11-Dragon-108330937

HAPPY GAARA'S BIRTHDAY!

-o-

Gaara's hesitant—but brilliant, blindingly brilliant, though it was awkward and reluctant to those around us—smile quickly slid to a frown at my somewhat undesirable reaction. For a moment, I thought the light had gone out of the world—and I realized I needed to get over myself, because this was an occurrence that the world needed. Gaara's smile.

Through my haze of floaty-shock—I was starting to feel as delusional as Isane—I forced a smile in return, even as he demanded, "Did I do something… wrong?"

"No!" I said quickly, then cringed at the volume of my voice. "No, it's just—you don't—smile often. I was surprised, that's all."

I nearly burst out laughing, too. How many girls had this conversation with their favorite guy? _You don't smile often. _Oh, sand. I was going insane. He needed to smile again; maybe it would bring me back down to earth…. Maybe it would just urge my heart to finish the explosion it was in the process of.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, wake up."

"I'm awake," I assured him a little bit woozily. "I hope." He probably rolled his eyes. I was still looking at Gaara in awe.

Someone put their hand on my shoulder and I jumped about a foot in the air—or would have, if said hand hadn't been holding me still—then turned to see Chie-sensei standing there. "Alright, Takara-chan?" she asked, lips quirking.

"Ye—" I started to say, remembered my erstwhile challenge from Abura, and wondered if I should try and resurrect it. (How many times had I lied so far?) "No," I finished happily. "I think I'm going to pass out."

Sand swirled tentatively around my ankles, as if trying to decide whether to hold me up or not. I felt giddy.

"Breathe, girl," said someone whose voice I didn't recognize—oh, Ino, yes, she was here, too. I grinned at her without turning my eyes away from Gaara, who was staring right back.

"I'll be alright in a minute," I said, and wondered if I should let myself fall.

-o-

I expected to dream of Gaara that night, after spending the whole day thinking about his tentative, puzzled smile. But I didn't even catch a glimpse of him in my lonely, pathetic dreams.

Instead, I dreamed of Abura.

I dreamed of Abura standing on the rooftops of Konoha as a building burned down around him. I saw every colored tongue of flame lick at his skin like excited puppies begging for attention from their master; I saw the fire eating away at the wood, then leaping to the next building and the next. The conflagrations left scorched ruins in their wake, as smoky as Abura's eyes, as dark as his black, black hair.

And I saw him go down, consumed by his own best friends, his own worst enemies.

_Friendly fire isn't._

-o-

And I woke thinking of the weaponsmaster and the pyro and their stone desks that whispered so certainly of their deaths. Eiri was dead already. _Eiri is dead_. But everybody died! Shinobi died every day; miracles happened when every member of the squad returned home alive. Of course those two, the two who'd left their marks on the desks in Suna, were dead. Or maybe they'd been exceptional shinobi, and they'd survived to die of old age. Or maybe they were still alive! I couldn't base everything off a feeling.

Did one nightmare—one very, very unlikely nightmare—count as a prophetic dream?

_All the same, I think we should get the hell out of Konoha._

_Now_.

I couldn't stop as I rolled off the pallet and hit the floor two inches away. I couldn't stop as I untangled myself from the sheets and blanket and dumped them back on the 'bed.' I couldn't stop as I walked through the door and crashed right into Gaara and almost ended up dead for the second time that morning. (When was the first time? I couldn't remember—I couldn't remember, so it must have been a dream.)

I couldn't stop thinking, _Everybody dies. Everybody dies._

_Oh, God. Everybody dies._

-o-

"Where the hell is Abura?" I snapped, voice hoarse from sleep, after carefully extracting myself from Gaara's surprised tangle of sand. (He didn't apologize, thank the desert gods, or I'd have died of shock.) Chie-sensei looked calmly at me from the kitchen table, unperturbed by my growling. She folded her arms across her chest and was silent, although Hitotsu (looking sullen, wrists still bound) informed me grouchily, "Went to visit Shihai."

I had no idea why that left such a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Twining fingers through my bedhead-hair, I stumbled over to a chair and sat down, almost ready to just fall asleep again on the smooth-grained wood. Why didn't I? Oh, yeah—dream. We had to leave.

"Chie-sensei, when are we le—"

My voice died in my throat as my eyes met the wood of the table. "Not so smooth a surface after all, eh?" I whispered to myself, running my fingertips over the name carved there in spiky, untidy letterings. Sands above, how had I not realized? This was the same place we'd stayed last time we were here.

Oh, gods help me, Eiri's name was carved there by his own kunai, a splintery, thorny accusation staring me down too damn early in the morning.

"I'm going to find him," I said, standing up with an abruptness that knocked my chair down again. Gaara was jumpy that morning; out of the corner of my eye, I saw his sand-made gourd bulge as if a monster inside were trying to get out. Quickly, I righted the chair, avoiding his gaze.

And wished I had the courage to tell him I needed to be alone.

-o-

Gaara was jumpy, and I was getting jumpier. I swear, we twitched in unison at every flickering shadow. _What if he knows something? _I kept demanding of myself. _What if the demon inside of him can smell the blood coming on the wind?_

_Nonsense, _I told that thought firmly (at the same time mentally laughing my head off at how exhausted I must be; I was talking to my own thoughts). _Shukaku can't see the future any more than I can._

Because I couldn't.

Gaara's sand convulsed again. I winced to the side. Nothing moved but a stray piece of paper drifting over the street—beneath the feet of the bustling, ordinary civilians. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

If I didn't get out of Gaara's sight, I was going to throw up. Having people's eyes on me drove me crazy (-er?), and his…

His were the worst, because _my_ eyes should have been on _him. _

And walking next to him was just too weird.

I knew I could slide into the shadows (into home) and lose him instantly, but did I really want to leave Gaara standing alone in the middle of Konoha? Could I do that to someone I hardly let out of my sight?

Could I be that cruel?

No—not to him, for sure. It took enough of an effort for that boy to venture out into the crowded streets and restrain himself, reign in the bloodlust. If he suddenly found himself alone…

He'd been alone all his life.

"It's… the full moon tonight," he said quietly behind me, and I jumped again, almost landing on someone's foot as I spun. He stood closer to me than I'd expected.

Of course I understand immediately what that meant. (I wondered if he knew why.) "Oh," I replied uncertainly. "…Gaara-sama, do you think… you should go back?"

He stared at me, eyes blank. I needed to hide. Oh, sands how I needed to hide. My hands were trembling with the need to touch the ground, to crouch against a wall and caress the darkness. Else I might end up reaching out with shaking fingers to brush against _him, _against his grainy, pale, sand-shielded skin.

And everyone knows that touching God is forbidden.

I took half a step back. I hoped he didn't think I was afraid.

"Are you… afraid?"

Haha, I could die, it was so funny. Who was reading whose mind?

"No," I said quietly. I still didn't know if he knew what a liar I was… to everyone but him.

He waited for more. I didn't give it. With every fiber of being, I needed to _hide_, to escape that penetrating, icy, beautiful stare.

My knees weakened with pure relief when Uzumaki Naruto's bright yellow hair bounced into view. I think I owed him my life again.

"HEYYYY! NARUTO-SAN!" I'd never yelled so loud in my life; I sounded just a little like Eiri for a minute. The thought hurt. He skidded to a halt on the roof he had just landed on and turned around with a grin to see who had called him. I waved frantically.

I don't know what spewed from my mouth—something about Gaara's birthday, I think, which had been a few weeks ago, and taking him out for ramen to celebrate belatedly. I mentioned regretfully that I couldn't afford to do so, but didn't give him the chance to invite me as well; the moment the blond turned to ask the redhead if such a celebration were ok, I was _gone_.

And I felt, just for a fleeting moment, that they would never see me again.

-o-

Abura and Shihai were just sitting together in the training field they had scorched—what, years ago? So long ago when Eiri had still been alive and we had all teased each other about young love and then defended ourselves against it. Ha ha. We were years older now (except Eiri, because he would never be older ever again), but it hadn't even been a full twelve months since those days.

I wondered bitterly how much it would have hurt if we had known back then what we would become.

Broken.

I didn't even move close enough to hear what they were saying, although I had sunk so deeply into the shadows I could have snuck up on buzzards in the desert. I just watched them for a few minutes and then turned around and wandered Konoha in darkness for the rest of the day.

-o-

Three days. Three damn days full of worry gnawing away at my stomach and twisting around my throat. Three long, drawn-out days until Isane was well enough to leave Konoha and come back with us to Suna; and the jealous part of me whispered that she'd stayed bedridden that long so she could spend more time talking to Naruto in the light-drenched hospital room.

And every damn night, I dreamed of fire. Not even Abura, not even his tragic last stand.

Just fire.


	62. A Chill

A/N: Warning! Lots of new characters in this (haha almost typed episode) chapter. I'm pretty sure they're very distinguishable, though. :P

Three of them were created by the winners of the contest. They are Kasumi (Aria Pedrosa, first place), Daisuke (Claamchowder, second place), and Sumairu (Apollo Pompano, third place). I'm really sorry if they don't turn out exactly how you guys imagined them—like I said, I have to keep them separate from the other characters, so they may not be exactly what you thought. But I tried. (:

The other three make up a team created entirely by Apollo Pompano. She got 550th review, which prompted the creation, and also, she has been hugely supportive of me and all-around amazing. Plus, I just love Raincoat Child. XD

Anyway, enjoy!

-o-

I didn't look back as we leapt away from the bustling village hidden in the leaves. Konoha could go down in flames for all I cared, because now Abura sure as hell wouldn't be going down with it.

Strictly speaking, inside my head, I knew that wasn't true. I _did _care about Konoha. If I had a second home, Konoha would be it. Despite the chill of the day, something Suna never really had, I _could _live there. People I cared about lived there.

Also, people—person—I owed my life to.

But right then, I just didn't want to lose Abura, because there damn well wouldn't be anyone else to replace him. And to be honest, a phrase _I _should _never _use, not a damn one of us would be able to handle it if we did. Not Sensei, not Isane, not me.

And I did not want to end up in the mental ward of the hospital years before most shinobi even knew where it was.

Then again, at least I would be following in my mother's footsteps, because she was probably going to beat me there.

-o-

When the sounds of shouting and the faint clash of kunai flitted back to us on the wings of the breeze, Chie-sensei nodded me on. With a sigh—I _really _wanted to just go home and _relax_—I bled into the shadows.

Immediately, I realized it was the closest to relaxing I might ever be allowed to get again. The sensation was cool and comforting—and almost like a drug that left me dizzy with the change of scenery. It looked the same, except for a thin film of grey darkness, but I moved through a different world in here.

I nearly yelped in surprise as a blast of icy cold hit me, like the desert night out where it didn­'t belong. Managing to bite down on the cry and shivering uncontrollably, I skittered forward to seek out the source of the clash and the cold.

For one dazzling second, I was blind. I stepped into a circle of trees and they shone like pillars of crystal stretching their fragile fingertips to the sky. Slowly, I sank to the ground, mouth half-open, and knew that if Konoha looked like _this_, I would move there in a heartbeat.

(I wouldn't. Gaara wouldn't.)

I half turned my head, raising my hand slightly as if to brush against the frozen circle of life. Specializing in not being noticed, I was smart enough not to _really _touch it—fingerprints on the ice, or maybe a trap laid within the cold—but I let the back of my fingers ghost half a centimeter over the shimmering-smooth surface. It radiated a chill that sent shivers down my spine, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe.

Even more petrifying, for a moment, I couldn't _remember_.

My mind slid out of focus like a skater slipping on the ice, and for one terrifying instant, my own name danced tantalizingly just out of my reach, as if the wind itself were waltzing it away. I felt like I was going to throw up.

Then a sliver of ice kissed my throat, startling my identity back into me, and I almost cried with relief.

Except, against all reason, a senbon had found its way to the vein beneath my skin.

Forcing myself not to swallow—I could almost certainly already feel hot blood trickling from senbon-point over the lump in my throat—I waited for the attacker to say something, since I didn't look to be speaking any time soon. All I could see of the shinobi behind me was a tanned gold-brown arm, but it seemed to be shaking slightly, perhaps with glee.

"I got really good at hiding things," said a girl's voice. "Including my team."

Dang, that was _my _skill.

The needle left my skin. Without giving myself time to breathe, I twisted around, letting the shadows fall away. Six people. Oh, sands—not good odds at all. Their sensei wasn't even in sight.

Let's see—me, Abura, Isane (weakened), Hitotsu and Onaji (tied up), Chie-sensei, and Gaara (who counted as at least two or three). If they came to get me, which they probably would in a minute or two, we'd be pretty even, at least.

"Er," I said, in a weak attempt to buy time. "You have a six-man cell?"

"Naw," said a guy from the back with silver hair. "Us three're separate."

"Yeah," added a blonde girl, one of the others Daisuke had indicated, with a hint of cheery sarcasm. "Old man Daisuke-kun would never stand for being on a team with two girls."

Like a chain reaction, their third teammate spoke as well. A green-haired boy with a chilling, pointy-toothed smile put in _very_ quietly, "There is debate as to which part of it he couldn't handle."

The silver-haired boy, whose expression had shifted towards a frown at the 'old man' epithet, slammed his fist into an ice-wrapped tree. Thanks to the lingering remnants of the jutsu, I felt like my heart shattered along with it as stained-glass teardrops rained to the ground. The blonde winced and looked like she was holding back tears, too; I figured she had initiated said jutsu.

"Hey!" she cried.

"Don't mock me!" growled Daisuke.

"But it's so very easy," murmured smile-boy.

"Chill," said an onion-headed boy—and by that I mean his hair made him look like he had a large onion on his head—from the other team. He had a metal pole resting on his shoulder, and didn't look too interested in using it, though he probably could have.

The girl with the senbon—who had moved back behind me when I'd turned, making me somewhat nervous—interjected suddenly, "Why are you here?" Though the question was interrogative, her voice seemed purely curious.

"I was on a mission that took me to Konoha," I said almost dismissively, inwardly cringing at the truth. "Why are _you _here, you guys are all from Amegakure."

We know," said the final shinobi, a boy (I think) in a large red raincoat, his tone cheerily bored.

"Really?" she demanded pleasantly. I glanced behind; she had a short brown bob and wide, hazel-red eyes with a hint of paranoia about them. "How do I know you're not lying?"

I almost started laughing hysterically, but restrained myself. It probably wouldn't have helped my case much. "If I were lying," I said, "you wouldn't know. But today, I am not." Damn pyro. Damn pride.

"Cool it, Hiiragi-san," onion-head ordered, smiling ever-so-slightly.

"Are you alone?" she asked, apparently ignoring him.

"No," I said. "There are six of you here with me. Which is still a surprise. Did I snap a twig?"

"No," put in the blonde. "Frost on the grass. When you walked on it, I knew."

"Oh. Why are you guys here again?" I could be just as questioning as Hiiragi, haha. Maybe not quite as paranoid as she seemed.

"Mission," said raincoat-child obviously. With a warm smile.

Direct approach: failure. I wanted to roll my eyes. "I heard fighting. And shouting."

"Daisuke-kun has something of a temper," murmured smile-boy, amused. I wished he would speak up; any quieter and I wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Shut up, Sumairu-kun," Daisuke snapped.

"So you guys were fighting each other?"

"Daisuke-san was fighting himself," proclaimed raincoat-child enigmatically. I squinted at the semicircle of genin in front of me and decided my brain was hurting too much. (I couldn't even tell if that was a lie.) My own reinforcements were taking their sweet time about showing up, too, although that was probably a good thing; I didn't want them in danger. Then again, I didn't want to be in danger, either. The silver-haired boy growled something that probably would have been "shut up" if it hadn't just been wordless anger.

"Well," I said brightly, "good luck on your mysterious mission. I have my own to complete."

"Hey, no way!" put in Daisuke furiously. "You can't!"

"I can't just wander into your trap and then leave again?" I said halfheartedly.

"No," said onion-head simply. I glared.

"Why not?"

"You might actually have a mission to kill us," postulated Hiiragi. "If we let you go, you could sneak up on us and murder us all in our sleep."

"I just want to go home," I whispered, and then I noticed water trickling down the trunk of a frozen tree like a trail of sweat and tears.

Abura had come to get me.

_PleaseGaaraletmegohome._

-o-

"What the heck took you so long?" I demanded as my pyromaniac friend dropped from a melting branch, fire blazing in his palms. The blonde girl was staring at him, hands quivering; I just barely heard Sumairu say softly, with a slight frown, "Kasumi-chan, let the jutsu go."

"I won't," she retorted stubbornly.

"It's melting, you idiot!" yelled Daisuke.

"Shut up, old man!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Cheh, you're the one taking so long," said Abura, ignoring them and grabbing my wrist. I gasped as pain flared; he pulled back, leaving a soot-black bracelet on my skin.

"Let's go," he said, almost like he hadn't just hurt me, but his voice caught just slightly as he turned away.

Despite the fact that I had been so ready to leave ten seconds ago, I glanced around at the array of Ame shinobi. Sumairu's teammates were still engaged in a minor squabble—which he was trying quietly and unsuccessfully to mitigate—but Hiiragi's squad looked quite ready to stop us.

"Let's," I agreed, half turning to look into Hiiragi's hazel-red eyes. Senbon slid from her fingers as if they had come from within her skin, but Abura and I had leapt to the trees, slipping on melting ice-cold limbs.


	63. A Home

A/N: Hey, y'all! I had a really good week, what about you? (:

-o-

"They're following us," I muttered, glancing back over my shoulder and suppressing a sigh.

"Cheh," said Abura scornfully. He stopped suddenly and spun around, grabbing my shoulders as I collided with him and nearly sent us toppling off the branch. "Then hide us."

"Um," I said, and couldn't think of a plausible reason not to.

Maybe I really didn't want him to see my world.

_You are a selfish child, _I reminded myself firmly, and pulled Abura back against the rough bark of the tree trunk.

"Don't talk," I said as I slipped us into the shadows.

-o-

"It's dark," he growled, smoky eyes narrowed.

"I told you not to talk," I hissed. "They can still hear us. And it's not dark, just a little grey. Now shut up."

"Cheh" was his subdued response.

They sped past us, but only Hiiragi's squad (plus one extra, an older shinobi, obviously their sensei); they'd been smart enough to split up, dang it. They were more likely to find all of us that way.

"Where's Chie-sensei?" I demanded quietly, gazing after Hiiragi. I could just see the tail end of a red raincoat whipping out of sight.

"Cheh, not here."

"Thanks ever-so-much, Abura-kun." I sighed. "Lead on."

"Cheh. I don't want to be in the dark anymore."

I frowned. "It's not dark, Abura-kun. Just grey."

"Everything's in… _cheh_. It's black and white."

"No," I said. "There're colors. They're just tinted grey."

But I let the shadows fall away from him, though I kept them wrapped tightly around myself, like a cool, dark blanket of shade.

-o-

Upon regrouping, I quickly explained to Chie-sensei about six to eight Ame-nin—including sensei—who refused to disclose their purpose on Konoha territory. She frowned in concentration, but she made no move to return to Konoha. I was all prepared to head for home when Isane piped up, "Maybe we should go back and warn—"

"We're not going back to Konoha, damn it!" I cried, frightened and infuriated by a vividly-remembered dream. All pairs of eyes turned to me, but the one that cut the deepest was rimmed with darkness. I swallowed hard and whispered once again, "I want to go home."

"So do I, Kori-chan," said Isane sadly, and I turned my eyes to her.

"Isane-chan, you can!" put in Onaji hopefully, spitting out whatever he'd managed to get in his mouth despite his tied hands.

"Come with us when we go," added Hitotsu with an undercurrent of desperation.

"Cheh, who says you're going home?" snorted Abura, but he went unnoticed.

"You know I can't," whispered Isane, anguish bleeding into her speech like a wounded bird, bringing silence with it.

In that moment, Gaara offered hesitantly, "I—will warn Konoha."

For an instant, my heart cried out, but I bit down on that particular protest. "People," said Chie-sensei, "I am the jōnin, and my speed's greatest. I'll go." And she cast me a look like she knew what I was thinking. Which I sure hoped she didn't, because she was scary enough sometimes without being an actual mind-reader, too.

"Wait," I said, because my thoughts kept going back to Isane, so I let my gaze do the same. The discussion wasn't over.

"You know I can't, Kori-chan," she repeated, voice pleading, bright blue eyes _begging_.

"Home," I mumbled. "Home became where—where Eiri-kun was." I rubbed a grimy hand across my tired eyes. "But Eiri-kun—only has loud and life-saving lookalikes now." I smiled humorlessly and tried not to feel everyone's eyes on me, because I hated it so, so much.

"Konoha doesn't seem to hold grudges," I whispered , half-crying, and by Konoha, I meant all the kind people within it. She'd never know she'd ever been an outcast missing-nin—except deep in her heart, where the word _traitor_ burned like Eiri's funeral pyre.

"Tell them for us, would you?" I added, so softly because I was choking on my words. "About the Amegakure invaders." I turned my back on her and closed my eyes because the tears were starting to throb.

"And tell Uzumaki Naruto that I owe him too damn much."

-o-

Every single night we camped, Gaara took watch, because his change of personality didn't change the personality of the demon inside. He still couldn't sleep, and every once in a while, I got to stay up with him.

We both stared out into the darkness of the thinning trees—not long to Suna now—letting our brains unfocus and our eyes search for movement. Or at least, that's what I did; Gaara apparently had other things on his mind.

"With Mizu," he said, and I noticed several things. It had taken him two days to bring this up; and he still wasn't comfortable with the intimacy of first names.

And I really didn't want to talk about it. Why did he always have to bring up the hard topics?

"What?" I said, half-bitterly, scooting half a centimeter away from him, because we were disturbingly close. It was making me sick in a puppy-dog sort of way; I couldn't decide if I hated it or craved it. "I was selfish? I know. I'm sorry."

"No." His brow furrowed as he tried to find the word. "Noble."

"_What?!_" I almost woke my teammates sleeping behind me as I laughed mirthlessly. "In what way?"

"How was it… _selfish?_" he countered carefully.

I frowned. "I should have sent her off with good cheer and best wishes. She was going… home."

"It seems… kind… that you let her go at all."

"How could I stop her?" I stared off into the distance, brooding.

"I have not spent… even a year of my life being… not selfish." I couldn't tell if he was having trouble phrasing this or just trying not to be so refined in his speech, as if that would help him connect. "I learned… to live for myself. Isn't that… the most selfish life a human can live? Especially… a shinobi."

He fell silent. I held my breath. He always made his longest speeches about himself. Maybe it was because that was all he knew.

"Shinobi have to fight for their villages. For… everyone."

"Sure," I agreed quietly. "But sometimes everyone isn't want keeps them alive. Sometimes it's just friends. Sometimes, it's just yourself."

The silence stretched. "Uzumaki Naruto… kept me alive."

"No he didn't," I said without thinking. He turned his eyes from the dark empty forest to me, and I almost flinched away. _He killed you,_ I wanted to say. _Killed who you were and made you someone else._

"He just helped you to change," I said instead, because I was ok with the new Gaara. I was learning to be _one hundred percent_ ok with it.

"But he's still a good friend," I finished weakly, taking a deep breath. "So it's ok. Even though I still should have sent my best friend away with far more joy to her."

"It's ok, Kori-chan," said a girl's voice with weary cheer. I leapt up and spun around to see that Isane had walked through the camp behind us, rendering our 'watch' useless. "Uzumaki Naruto-kun isn't home anymore. So I guess I get to stay with you."


	64. A Secret

A/N: Hello! I am so crazy busy! That's why I am even happier that Aria wrote this chapter for me! XDDD This is her awesome chapter for winning first place. :D And let me tell you, it is AWESOME. _I _squee'd. (Then again, I do that a lot. XD) SO ROCKS. I seriously don't know why I ever write this story anymore, all my guest-writers are SO MUCH BETTER. I love you guys. :D

Also, guess what I found? A PERSON WHO TALKS LIKE EIRI. Sort of. XD It was at the convention, and this guy would every few sentences draw out some of his vowels, I was like HAHHAHA. XDDDD Do you guys like it when I post chapters at odd hours of the morning (i.e., midnight), or would you rather I post it at a goodly hour?

And GUYS! Look at this AMAZING FANART THAT LIZ DID!!!!!

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/89-Through-the-Fire-114216001

**Hello, Aria here! So, this is my guest-written chapter of **_**The Obsession**_**. And I actually kind of like it, which is pretty cool. Writing OCs that aren't mine is fun :D**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

-o-

"What were they all doing halfway around the world, though?"

I didn't even try to suppress a groan. "Just forget it, okay? They said they were on a mission."

"Cheh, and you believe that?" Abura asked. "You, of all people, think they were telling the truth?"

"No, I just don't _care_," I said. This was seriously starting to get to me. After Isane had finished explaining that Uzumaki had left the village to train with his mentor for sand knows how long, Abura had made sure that what minimal conversation there was revolved around those Ame-nin.

"But," Onaji piped up, "they prob'ly _were_ on a mission. What else would they be doing?"

"Well… maybe they're after, you know… _us_," hissed Abura.

"That's still a mission," Hitotsu muttered.

"Why would they be after… oh." I glared at Abura, trying to ignore the gaze of one red-haired insomniac who had realized we were now discussing him. "But they only attacked me after I walked into their camp. It's not like every shinobi away from home is up to something illegal."

"They wouldn't have tried to kill you, though, if they weren't up to something. I mean, you're one pathetic genin, and there were at least six of them. Cheh, you weren't enough of a threat _to_ kill – or, you wouldn't be, except you might have overheard something. So it's either that, or they were targeting you."

I rounded on him, seething. "_Or_, Ame-nin are just paranoid, psychotic freaks! What would you know about them, anyway?"

"Takara-chan, stop yelling!" snapped Chie-sensei.

I didn't really know what was wrong with me. I was turning into a "paranoid, psychotic freak" myself. But I couldn't let Abura – or any of us, for that matter – go back there. It would be a step closer to Konoha; a step closer to those haunting flames.

And a step further from Suna. This was the longest mission I'd ever been on, and I was simply tired. Tired, and unbelievably homesick.

"Kori-chan, are you okay?" Isane asked quietly.

"Not at all. Let's just keep going."

Yep, I had gone insane.

-o-

Spending the entire day arguing with Abura, then arguing with Chie-sensei for telling me to stop arguing with Abura, had worn me out enough that I fell asleep almost immediately that night. Annoyingly enough, my dreams weren't particularly pleasant, and I woke up about an hour later.

Gaara was, of course, awake, keeping watch for us all. He was leaning against a tree, gourd propped up next to his feet. In the light of the moon, he actually looked kind of creepy – his head was dipped down and his eyes closed, so he seemed to have two huge, dark holes in his head. As if this wasn't unnerving enough, he was frowning worriedly and looked like he was muttering under his breath.

I stood up silently, not wanting to disturb him from whatever he was so focused on. He surprised me by raising his voice to a low whisper, just loud enough for me to hear.

"There is a single shinobi about two kilometers north-northwest of us."

I blinked, barely registering what he had said. "Wh-what? Then… what's he doing?"

"_She_ was traveling slowly southwest, and stopped fourteen minutes ago. Now she is resting, but not sleeping. I expect she will move again soon."

"You've been watching her all that time?" I asked.

"Yes, ever since she came within ten kilometers of here," he muttered.

"…Wow. Sorry, but… why?"

"I will not be the reason any of you are in danger."

I stared at him dumbly, before quickly averting my eyes to study the patterns on his gourd. Uzumaki had certainly gotten through to him. Where was the brooding Gaara that I had followed around the rooftops for so many years?

"Well… thank you, Gaara-sama," I said quietly.

He froze, and for a moment I thought he had seen something. But then a tiny smile found its way onto his lips.

_Of course – I doubt anyone's ever thanked him before._ The thought had to fight its way through the mush my brain had become, but it sounded pretty good to me. Then again, Gaara's smiles seemed to be my weakness, and I doubted I could trust my mind at the moment.

He suddenly tensed again, and this time I knew there was a good reason.

"She's standing up… she's coming this way. But she left all her things. She knows we're here."

I swore quietly, torn. The smart thing to do would be to wake Isane and Abura (though, come to think of it, I already had the best of us with me), but Abura would never leave me alone if I woke everyone up just because of some random, lone shinobi after totally disregarding an all-out attack. On the other hand, if I went to look myself, Gaara would see my technique, and I didn't want to scare him away with the realization that I constantly stalked him. Not now that we were finally becoming friends.

"…Gaara-sama, I need you to stop the jutsu," I whispered.

He frowned questioningly, still trying to focus.

"It'll be… difficult… for me to do anything with your eye there," I said.

After a moment, he nodded. "Release," he whispered. Seconds later, a tendril of sand, the remnants of the extra optic, drifted from between the trees and returned to his gourd. He opened his own eyes and looked at me.

"Alright, I'm going to go. If she gets too close, hold her off." With that, I leapt into the trees, rushing through the branches. It was less than a minute until I sensed someone's chakra, and I immediately slipped into the shadows, hoping Gaara wouldn't notice that my own chakra signature had faded.

Keeping to the dark side of the tree trunks, I hurried back to the ground and slowly made my way closer to the unfamiliar energy.

Although I could have sworn I knew it from _somewhere_. It was that sort of annoying, faint recognition that will drive you insane until the answer is right in front of you.

Ironically enough, the moment I focused back on the situation at hand, I saw the source of the chakra walking towards me.

Hitomi-sensei had come for our hostages.

I leaned out from behind the tree, dangerously close to the moon's light, in order to get a good look at her face. She didn't seem angry or dangerous at all – just eager. She must have noticed Onaji's and Hitotsu's chakra, and was relieved to know that they were still alive.

Still, no matter how not-murderous she appeared to be, my next move was really, really stupid.

"Hitomi-sensei!" I called quietly, allowing myself to become visible. She whipped around, kunai in hand before I even saw her move.

"T-Takara-chan?" She stared at me for a moment, then grinned widely. "It _is_ you! Are you with Onaji and Hitotsu?"

"Yeah, we're… kind of… keeping them… hostage…." I trailed off lamely, realizing that this could be a problem.

"Ah." She frowned for a moment. "Would it be okay if I 'defeated' you and managed to free my students?" she asked, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers around the word 'defeated.'

"…That would be great, except I kind of have one Sabaku no Gaara backing me up."

"Oh… wow. Then this won't be so easy. Do you think you could convince him to…?"

"Do you think it's the best thing to do?"

I jumped – Gaara had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and was standing just behind me; 'just behind me' meaning a few centimeters back. Hitomi-sensei started as well, eyes widening.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, it's Onaji-kun and Hitotsu-kun… they aren't all that menacing, really," I said with a shrug.

"Then I suppose I came rushing to your aid, leaving an opening for Onaji-san and Hitotsu-san to join their sensei and escape."

-o-

"Onaji-kun!" I hissed, poking the boy in the forehead.

"Nggh…" He swatted at my hand, curling up a bit tighter.

"Get up! You're going home!"

His eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly, almost smacking me in the head as he rose. "What?" he yelped excitedly. I clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh!" I glanced over at Abura. He had raised his head a bit, but flopped right back down and kept on sleeping. I doubted he'd approve of anything that I was involved in at the moment, especially since he was pretty pissed at me. Best he didn't find out.

"Yo, Hitotsu!"

Onaji turned at the voice to see his sensei crouching over his brother, shaking him to wake him up.

"Sensei!" he said, sort of quietly, clambering over Hitotsu (a bit awkwardly, due to his hands still being tied).

"Get _off_… Sensei!" With that, Hitotsu was awake, too, and the three of them were undergoing a hushed but happy reunion. I was surprised Abura hadn't woken up and started yelling at us for a second, and completely dumbfounded that Chie-sensei hadn't. Some ninja, sleeping through all this.

Unless she wasn't really asleep.

Some ninja, letting her squad do whatever the heck they wanted with their hostages.

"Guys, I hate to rush you, but we're screwed if they wake up."

"Sure, sure. C'mon guys," said Hitomi-sensei, quickly cutting the bindings off their wrists. "So, Takara-chan. You come with me about fifty yards into the forest, and I'll hit you with a genjutsu to knock you out, then Gaara-sama will come wake you up. While he's doing that, I'll meet up with Onaji and Hitotsu over that way." She pointed off to the right. "Okay?"

"Sure. Gaara-sama?"

"All right."

"Great," said Hitomi-sensei, grinning. "Then let's get out of here."

"Bye, guys. It's been fun dragging you all over the country." I would never have believed that I would be sad to see Onaji and Hitotsu leaving, but I kind of was.

And then, without warning, Onaji decided to give me a hug.

"I'll miss you, Takara-chan!" he whined, though he was grinning.

"…You, too. Now move it, you're being too loud."

The two of them scampered away, then I followed Hitomi-sensei back to where I had found her.

"Okay Takara-chan, find a soft part of the ground to fall on…"

I saw her perform the hand seals, then everything went black.

-o-

Most people would have a heart attack if they woke up to see Suna's monster crouching over them. I was no exception, though I think the pounding in my chest was because he had his hand on my shoulder – _Gaara's_ hand on _my_ shoulder – to transfer his chakra and wake me up.

"How long has it been?" I asked, feeling lightheaded for reasons other than the jutsu.

"Only a minute. We should tell Abura-san and Isane-san that they 'escaped'…"

"Right. Let's go."

-o-

I guess I was, technically, lying to Abura and Isane. And if he found out… well, damn.

Then again, Isane still thought I was "Kori-chan," and Abura hadn't had a problem with _that_…

He'd been a bit skeptical when I woke him up, since other than a bit of dirt I didn't have any injuries from my supposed fight with Hitomi-sensei. A few words from Gaara had him convinced, though, and I doubted he'd bring it up again.

The trip was suddenly much more bearable. Onaji and Hitotsu weren't there to annoy us with fake (or maybe real, though they had seemed too half-hearted to be serious) bids for freedom, which helped my mood out a lot. Abura was actually scared to disagree with me, so instead of arguing with him, I got to talk to Gaara. And now that the two of us had a secret, I was starting to think that maybe we really were friends. After all, that's one of the many weird ways to be trusting of someone – share a secret.

By noon the next day, we were in the desert, which was a complete relief. That night, sleeping in the sand, I was completely at ease for the first time in weeks. I dreamed of the huge stone walls that enclosed our home, and knew that the next day, I would finally see them in person.


	65. A Drink

A/N: Guys, I love you SO MUCH that I'm giving you an extra chapter this week! Because I'm having like the most sucktastic week ever, and I need your kind words of review. XD Luckily, being sick and unable to sleep is definitely beneficial for getting extra chapters written. XD (It's currently 12:30 AM, and I actually wrote _this _chapter at, like, one AM yesterday morning….)

Oh, hey, guys, I don't suppose any of you are going to the anime con in May, Anime Central? I am, and I'd _love_ to see you there. ;P

Oh, and don't think I linked you to this hot little piece of fanart. XD http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Inuka-boys-113230706

-o-

I nearly cried with relief as we stepped into my city, shadowed by the towering cliffs that embraced Suna like a mother's arms. Tears gathered in my eyes as my knees trembled, struggling to keep me standing. Never had I been so tired, so bone-deep _exhausted_, and never had I been so glad to see my home.

Without waiting for Chie-sensei's dismissal, I started to leave, to head for bed—and a week of sleep, if I had my way. The world was practically spinning; I was as off-balance as a baby bird, and probably couldn't have navigated my way out of a cardboard box. It didn't occur to me that Suna was a lot more complicated; I could find my house blindfolded and half-dead, as long as I could walk.

So I thought. I didn't have the opportunity to test the theory, as I took two trembling steps and dropped to my knees.

Isane was at my side first. She was shaking, too; I'd thought she was going to cry when she'd woken to find Onaji and Hitotsu gone without saying goodbye, and those tears seemed on the brink of returning with exhaustion. Inside these walls of rock, we were safe, safe enough to let weariness overcome us and send us crashing to the ground.

It was dangerous, for a shinobi to feel safe—anywhere, even home. But we couldn't help it.

I looked back at the others. Abura—he stood as tall as ever, but I thought he was trembling, too.

Chie-sensei stood beside me, opposite Isane. Gently taking my arm, she pulled me back to my feet.

"Ok, Takara-chan?"

"No," I confessed. A lie would have been useless here anyway, but I still silently cursed Abura for his challenge, purely out of weary temper.

She smiled slightly. "Let's get you home."

"I… will take her."

I nearly jumped out of my skin at _Gaara's _offer, then sputtered incoherently for a few moments before managing, "Er—uh—that's ok, Gaara-sama, I—I'll make it."

"Liar," said Abura from behind us, then stalked off home.

"Is he going to be ok?" Isane asked, face awash with exhaustion. "He's tired like us, too."

Chie-sensei looked amused. "Come on, Isane-chan, we'll make sure Abura-kun gets home, and then take you home as well, since we're trusting Takara-chan to Gaara-san."

_Two months ago_, I thought as I swayed slightly, moments from falling again, _she didn't trust him within ten meters of us—of _anyone. _And now he's walking me home.I think I'm going to faint._

I didn't, though. I staggered home, occasionally finding myself propped up by waves of warm gold, abrasive against my skin but comforting nonetheless.

The house was dark and empty when we arrived. I figured Mom was out partying and thanked sand it was somewhere else, so I could have some quiet.

We stood awkwardly on my front step for a minute, Gaara and I. Well, it was awkward for me; he looked as calm and collected as , I mumbled, "Thanks, Gaara-sama," and turned around.

"You're… welcome," he said after an uncertain pause. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, then stumbled through the door and passed out on the couch.

-o-

I woke to find Gaara sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me, looking almost like a child waiting for a bedtime story. I very nearly passed out again.

"Good morning, Gaara-sama," I said calmly instead, then glanced out the window.

"Good afternoon," he said blandly. I half grinned at him. His lips twitched in return.

Aside from the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in the windows around the ground floor, the house was as unlit and abandoned as it had been the night before when I'd staggered in like a drunk out too long. I guessed Mother must have spent the night at some friend's house, as if she were a teenage girl again, because she probably would have woken me up if she'd come in. Especially if Gaara had been sitting there. That might have been too unnerving for her to maintain silence.

I needed a bath. _Sands, _I needed a bath. Too many days since clean and bright Konoha; I was covered in travel-dust and all kinds of grime. Yuck.

I realized I was going to have to convince Gaara to stay downstairs while I showered. That didn't seem too hard—as oblivious as he was to the ways of etiquette, I was pretty sure he understood the need for privacy. I prayed.

"Gaara-sama, I'm—er—gonna go upstairs to shower." That led me to wonder what happened to the sand when _he _wanted to bathe. He was covered in it, after all. Hmm. Awkward. "I'll be back in—" I estimated leisure time. "—An hour?" I hazarded. "But I guess you should probably go home…."

He shrugged. "Why?"

"Uh…" How stunningly thoughtless I was. Who would he go home to, his family? His dead father and his terrified siblings? I'd pick a friend over that any day.

"I'll wait," he said simply as I practically fell of the couch trying to get up, which proved how tired I still was.

"Ok," I agreed, not really knowing what else to say—thank you? Then I trudged up the stairs, clinging to the banister as if it were keeping me alive (it probably was: If I had let go, I would likely have fallen and broken my neck), resisting the urge to look back over my shoulder.

-o-

Hot air rises, I guess, because it was sweltering upstairs where it had only been warm downstairs; the first thing I did was throw open the windows in my room. Not that it would help much—there was hardly a breeze—but every bit counts, and it wasn't going to stop me from taking a hot shower.

I stopped in my mother's room to do the same, and saw her dark form among the sheets. So she'd snuck past Gaara? That was a feat. Or maybe he just hadn't told me she'd come in; I hadn't exactly asked, and Gaara wasn't exactly the forthcoming type.

I almost let her sleep, but I was still a child at heart, and I missed my mother. Quietly, I crept into the into the darkened room and climbed up onto her huge bed. "Mom?" I whispered first, then louder. She slept on. _Late night partying_. I tried to remember if she'd always been a light sleeper, but, frighteningly, I couldn't.

Troubled, I let her slumber on. I'd say hello after I was clean again.

-o-

Something like forty-five blissful minutes later, I shook as much water as I could out of my hair, shivering gleefully as flying droplets chilled my skin. Changing into a fresh set of clothing—black, of course, but being home, I opted for a grey over-shirt instead of the naturally-dappling fishnet—I then trotted back to my mother's room.

She hadn't moved. What a party it must have been.

For a moment, I hesitated again. If she was this tired…

And I kept thinking of how she'd been. Half-mad, delusional—I hadn't seen her in a while, and those memories had faded a little. If I woke her, I'd be erasing the childlike vision I had in my head of my cheerful, loving mother.

Had she ever been that?

Slowly, I stepped into the room.

"Mom," I said loudly. "I'm home." A halfhearted attempt at best, and I knew it. Sighing, I approached her sleeping form, repeating the words. When she still didn't stir, I touched her shoulder, then shook her slightly, kneeling next to her on the bed again.

What did I have to do, pour a bucket of cold water on her?

I leaned across her to flip on the elaborate lamp resting on her bedside table—and froze as the hand I had used for balance met something cold and hard and perfectly smooth.

Slowly, I finished turning on the light and looked down, heart trembling in my throat. My hand rested on top of what was unmistakably a bottle of sake—and when I shook it, it was empty.

No. Nonono. My mother never drank whole bottles of sake. She barely even drank wine at her parties, not since my father had died—been killed. By the boy sitting in my living room. Was that some kind of betrayal?

"Mom," I said again, futilely, still shaking her. I didn't need this. Sands above, I was too damn tired; I didn't need this! If she'd passed out from drinking—How long would it be? Could you wake someone up from alcohol-sleep _without_ a bucket of water?

"Mom!" I practically cried. And then, in the ensuing silence, I noticed she wasn't breathing. Hadn't been breathing this whole time. No calm rhythm of sleep. Just silence.

The shock hit me like Shikamaru's Shadow Possession. I just sat there, kneeling next to my dead mother, silent, staring, not even wondering what the hell I was going to do now.


	66. A Mother

A/N: Gosh, guys! Chapter 60! SIXTY! That's… wow. That's a lot. XD (It's also _posted _chapter 70! Wow! That's also a lot! XDDD)

Guys, my love for you could never be put into words. Can I just say, the last chapter? SO MANY REVIEWS. Twenty-one! (Wow! That sounds really lame when you say it! I got twenty-one reviews, oh boy! But really guys! That's a ton! The most reviews I have on one chapter is 21! And the first chapter itself only has 16!) Gosh! Gee! I don't know what to say so I shall put in random sound effects! (Yes, I'm still sick, can you tell?) I LOVE YOU ALL. From the bottom of my heart. :D

Have some beautiful fanart that I am very proud of:

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/White-Roses-and-Rain-115411283

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/56-Sharp-115444259

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/32-Night-115396438

http://rikkaxkisshuluv(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Takara-115447537

Oh, wait, those last two aren't me. XDDD Enjoy the chapter, guys! (Mini-contest next chapter, btw! Sorry, you writers, this one's drawing; but I promise the next one is writing. :D)

AND THANK YOU. :D

---NOTE: Eiri's birthday was February 27th. :)---

-o-

Gaara found me, maybe an hour later, probably alarmed that my time estimate had now doubled and wondering if I'd drowned in the bath.

The tears had come. My face was coated with them, like my own little shield, a salty parody of Gaara's sand armor. But I hadn't actually _cried_—I'd just sat there, letting the tears course down my face and soak into my collar until I felt like I needed another shower and a new change of clothes. There was no grime left to streak, but they left pale glittering trails down my cheeks nonetheless. I know because there was a mirror stretching across my mother's wall, and I'd spent the last half hour staring at the ghost reflected in its silvery expanse.

Gaara must have seen my reflection, too, because he haltingly demanded what was wrong when he slipped into the room and stood by the door. I couldn't speak, just turned to look at him with wide, haunted eyes.

He moved closer. Saw my mother—didn't sense a life force, maybe, or even a civilian's chakra. Understood. Much quicker than I had—but I didn't recognize death like he did.

And he didn't understand having a mother like I did.

I felt sand envelop me, warm as any embrace. Where once I would have panicked—where maybe I should have panicked—I sagged against it, closing raw and weary eyes at last.

Two funerals in—sands, four months? "Gaara," I said—sobbed, finally, quietly, letting more tears, real tears, soak the sand that was so accustomed to blood. "My mother. My _mother_." He said nothing. He didn't know what to say. _I _didn't know what to say. My mother was dead.

Did that make me an orphan, or was I too old for that now?

-o-

I didn't go to the funeral. I honestly just—couldn't. I didn't want to see all her party friends gathered around her like a coalescence of black butterflies. I didn't want to hear what they said—whether it was heartfelt or sickly-sweet and fake. I didn't want to have to cry again, and I was too damn exhausted to contain myself.

Instead, I sat on a roof overlooking the cemetery, feet dangling over the edge, and waited for them to bring her here. Here was where I could remember her my own way.

For a moment, I felt Abura's fiery chakra approaching. Startled, I started to turn, but it moved away again and I jumped backwards at the sight of Gaara standing directly behind me.

Too late, I remembered I was standing on the edge. Only when the sickening swooping of falling twisted my stomach up to my throat did I realize I had gone over. The ground was a lot closer when you were a helpless falling child and not a calculatedly jumping shinobi.

I jerked back upward with a motion that sent my head snapping back. I almost puked in midair; multicolored spots flared in my vision as Gaara's sand set me back on the rooftop.

For a minute, I just knelt there, breathing heavily. For a minute—no, more than a minute; I'd been wishing this for weeks—I wanted the old, violent, _oblivious_ Gaara. I wanted him to leave me _alone_, so I could follow _him_, around, only _unnoticed._

"Gaara,sama—" My voice rose into a broken whine and I cringed, but I was tired and my mother was dead and _Eiri was dead—_

"Please, Gaara-sama, can you—can you leave me alone for a little while? I need—I need to be alone."

I didn't look up. I just watched my tears—more tears—slipping over my skin and dripping to the stone. But I heard the whisper as sand swirled and he disappeared, conceding to my request. I still didn't look up. I just sat there and tried to remember my mother holding me in her arms.

-o-

This time, Abura came. He came while I was still kneeling there—but then, I hadn't moved for hours. The sun sank and the cold rose and my knees grew stiff and cramped and I just sat there, crying softly, as they buried my mother and piled stones on her grave so the wind couldn't lay her coffin bare.

He didn't come close, but stood a few feet away. A flame flared to life above my head, illuminating the darkening sky as if the sun had changed its mind.

I looked up at him, face streaked with tears. He still had a mother, didn't he? Yes—and a father who lived far away and didn't remember his birthday.

"Hi, Abura-kun," I said weakly, with half a forced smile. He wasn't fooled. But he didn't come closer, didn't sit down, and didn't try to comfort me. Guess he couldn't. Guess he didn't want to. I didn't really know. I didn't really care. He wasn't hovering, like Gaara. Sands, damn it, I loved Gaara—I needed space—I needed darkness and shadow and silence and being alone and dreams.

I'd tried to sleep, before I'd come to sit here. But I kept having dreams, not about my mother, but with little things, tiny things that reminded me of her. They were pointless, rambling, insignificant dreams—but a balloon, a bit of confetti, swirling skirts, mascara tears—they all woke me up, crying for her.

Damn it, she wasn't even a mother to me. _She wasn't a mother. _But she was _my _mother. Damn it. Damn it! No, I didn't need dreams.

"Cheh, gonna go down there?"

Startled again, I looked back at him, eyes wide, mouth open slightly, probably looking like a clueless child. He stepped closer and held out his hand, the one tattooed with flickering phoenix fire. For a moment, I stared at it. Then, I took it, because I needed a brother at that moment and not just a friend.

If he was my brother, I still had a mother.

Abura pulled me to my feet. I looked up at him—two months younger and still taller—and he raised one eyebrow, coolly, not grinning, Abura-style, and looked down at the vacated cemetery and the fresh grave. Closing my eyes, I turned—

And, inexplicably, unable to stop myself, stepped off the edge.

Behind me, Abura yelped in surprise. I was falling—and this time, it wasn't frightening, it was exhilarating, and I couldn't see the ground, and—

I never hit it, Abura caught me. I was glad—I didn't want to be in the hospital with broken bones, or dead. I just wanted to—

Sands, what was I thinking? There are no shadows in the sky. I didn't want to fly.

"Cheh, Takara-chan, what the _hell_ was that?!" I opened my eyes, finally, frowning, to see his eyes furious and maybe a little bit scared. He was crouching in the sand of the graveyard, holding me. I shivered, and wondered what it would be like if Gaara had done that—if Gaara had caught me, not his sand, not his cold unfeeling sand. If Gaara's arms had been around me.

Not a thought I wanted to follow up on. Not now.

"Sorry, Abura-kun," I said in a small, tired voice. "I don't know. I really, really don't know."

"Cheh! Just—" Anger strangled him for a second. "Don't you ever the hell do that again!"

"Grammar's slipping," I pointed out with a half smile.

"Cheh, shut up."

I wiggled and he dropped me in the sand. Trying not to laugh and cry at the same time, I struggled to my feet and trailed through the cold desert sand to my mother's grave.

Nothing fancy. That might have disappointed her—she loved the elaborate. The parties. Never anything plain. She was next to my father, of course; two identical piles of harsh grey stones, the top one carved with their names and dates.

"Abura-kun, can I borrow a kunai? I left mine at home."

"Cheh, that'd get you killed."

"It could," I agreed, "but today it won't. Please?"

"_Cheh_, can you guarantee that?" he countered, but held one out anyway. I took it and held it limply while I stared at the rocky tower, pondering.

Then I forced my chakra into the point—no small effort in this state—and began carving my own words into the marking on my mother's grave.

_Mother_, I wrote. _Loved to party. Loved her husband. Loved her daughter._ I almost added, _probably in that order. _But I didn't.

If I'd had the skill to carve one of those stones into something beautiful, something elaborate, I would have. But as it was, my words were sprawling and hard to read. I'd never get something lovely out of my unpracticed hands and unpracticed kunai.

I looked at my father's grave, hesitated, then turned and walked away. Abura walked beside me, not hovering, not—not closing in. Understanding, maybe.

Then again, Gaara probably could empathize better, if he knew how to empathize. He'd killed his mother, too.

We walked for a while, silence, going nowhere, winding through the towering stone buildings, me remembering, he—I don't know what he was doing.

Until, finally, he said into the silence, voice strained, tight, trying not to cry—

"Eiri's birthday is tomorrow."

I bowed my head and tried not to burst back into tears.

But I wasn't sure which one of us left the trail of droplets in the sand.


	67. A Courtesy

A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, guys, yesterday got crazy.

-o-

Eventually, Abura went home, casting one last glance back at me and breaking off at a street that led directly to his house. I was so close to following him—he had a mother, a mother as warm as smoldering embers and not as harsh. I actually took a step after him. But he didn't turn around, and I had no right to try and steal his mother, not when she was the only family he had besides his squadmates.

I thought about trying to find someone else, Isane or Chie-sensei, but it was probably after midnight, and they were probably asleep. Besides, what could they offer me? Condolences.

I just didn't want to go back to my house. At that moment, I didn't _ever_ want to go back to my house. It was empty, silent, and a gaping mouth waiting to swallow me up.

So I wandered the streets of Sunagakure at midnight like a lonely ghost. Or rather, a lonely shadow, though I felt as if I should be wearing a white dress, barefoot, snow-pale roses in my arms.

It made a pretty picture. But I hadn't had white in my closet for years.

It actually started to rain, and I almost cried at the irony of the day. It almost never rained. It had to be now. Was the sky weeping for my mother, or for poor, lost Eiri, who would have turned thirteen today?

Instead, I laughed, a hollow, slightly mad sound. If I had been in the part of town that was still awake at this hour, I probably would have scared the hell out of other night-rovers. As it was, I probably ruined someone's dreams.

I hated rain. Yes, it's the desert, and we love rain here. But rain made everything soggy and cold, and in those incredibly rare times it struck during the day, the clouds made everything dull and grey. Sure, it was darker—but sun cast more shadow.

Sand whispered behind me, but I didn't turn around. That boy never walked anywhere, did he? Just whisked around in his own personal sandstorms.

Something touched my shoulder. My heart rose in my throat as I pivoted to see—but it was only an uncertain tendril of dark gold, not a milk-pale hand. I cursed myself for thinking—for hoping.

"I'm… sorry?" he tried to offer me, but I didn't take it, just laughed hoarsely again.

"You can't be sorry, Gaara." He almost flinched at the strange familiarity, but I was too damn tired to care. "You don't understand."

He frowned. "But… it is what one says…?"

I shrugged. "Empty. Courtesy. Good for when you're in public. Less so when you're talking to a half-crazy orphan at midnight."

Silence, a moment. I had stopped walking, so we just stood there. I realized we were standing in front of Eiri's house—Eiri's family's house. I almost burst back into tears.

"It's—past midnight."

The sound that ripped from my throat was somewhere between a sob and a strangled, morbid chuckle. "Whatever."

"You should… sleep."

"Why?" I practically snarled, and cringed inside when he didn't flinch away. Had he endured so many cruel words that he couldn't even react? But I couldn't stop myself—"You manage without."

"If I slept, the demon would… take over… and destroy."

"Who taught you to _care?_" I whispered, trying futilely to keep the anguish from my voice.

"Uzumaki Naruto," he said, and I winced. Damn that boy. "And… you."

In some sappy, cheesy romance, I would have run and cried in his arms. Maybe some part of me wanted to. But he wouldn't have understood if I tried. I turned my back on him.

"You kept yourself awake every damn night long before you met me," I said. "So who taught you to care?"

And I walked away.

"I am… an orphan as well."

I stopped. Swallowed. "I—know."

"You—"

"Gaara-sama," I interjected, closing my eyes as the sand shifted restlessly, the demon still enraged by interruptions. Not even Gaara was perfect, after all. "This conversation is starting to go places I don't want to." _At least, in my head it is. _"I don't want to go back to my own house right now." _Ever again. _"And that's where my bed is, so no sleep." I grew aware of the fact that I was shivering uncontrollably in the cold and the rain. My shirt wasn't too thick, meant for the daytime; I was surprised I hadn't noticed it before.

"I just—want to be alone."

I thought he was going to bring up Abura, but I guess he really had left me alone for a while.

"You can… come… to the Kazekage's mansion."

I drew in a breath so sharply it whistled through my teeth and slowly turned to face him. "Gaara-sama, I—I really appreciate the offer. But—I really want to sleep alone tonight."

Ignoring the awkward way that had come out—he wouldn't understand anyway—I walked away from my dream.

-o-

I ended up sleeping in the corner of some random rooftop, expending just enough chakra to keep me alive and free of frostbite. (It was almost harder than I could handle.) I thought it was the house of one of my mother's partiers—at least, I heard sobbing from the window and was glad to know I wasn't the only one grieving for my mom.

I think I was too exhausted to dream, because I didn't. But then, I also didn't get more than a few hours of sleep, waking when the sun touched my face, dried my leftover tears, and began to thaw my spirit.

Oh, sands—with Gaara—why had I said that? Any of it? But too late now—damn it. Too late for everything.

Slowly sitting up and rubbing my eyes, I tried to pull bleary, exhausted thoughts together. Eiri—his birthday—gods—Abura. I should find Abura, so we could—do something. Celebrate? Ha.

Sighing, I slipped over the edge and headed for his house. His kindly, round mother greeted me and let me in and shouted for Abura, smiling sadly at me or something else. I didn't know. I couldn't read people's eyes anymore. They could lie to me all they wanted, and I'd only ever half know. Damn it. Damn Abura. Damn challenges and everything. I was going mad.

He came down the stairs looking as if he'd slept as little as I had, but in his own warm bed, dark shadows beneath both our eyes in watered-down imitations of Gaara.

"Let's go to Eiri's house," I said, and walked out the door.

-o-

When I knocked, a little girl, eight years old, opened the door, yellow-blond hair cut to her chin, ends as raggedy as if she had done it herself. Maybe she had. I wondered if she was enrolled in the Academy. She half-smiled when she saw us, and I shakily smiled back, hands clenched at my sides to avoid self-consciously wiping away any telltale tear-streaks. I'm sure she had enough of that in her household just more.

The little girl—Mei, her name was—wandered off, leaving the door open to let us in. I poked my head inside as Abura shoved past me, although I didn't know where _he_ was planning on going. Of course, he'd been closer to Eiri than me; he probably knew his way around the house better.

It was when he started heading up the stairs that I got concerned. "Eh, Abura-kun, the kitchen is upstairs?"

He stopped halfway up and stared at me. "Cheh, why would the kitchen be upstairs?"

"I have no idea, but that's where you're going…."

"Not going to the kitchen. Cheh. I'm going to Eiri's room."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to the kitchen." I turned around and headed off down a small hallway.

"You're going the wrong way." I pivoted to seen him leap down half the stairs and stalk after me. "Cheh, why the kitchen?"

"It's a birthday. We're going to make a cake."

Again, that hard-eyed stared. I couldn't read anything in it. "Eiri can't eat cake, Takara-chan."

"But the rest of us can," I said firmly. He rolled his eyes and led me down the other hallway, right into the brightly light kitchen.

Eiri's mother looked as if she'd been trying to read the newspaper and had given up two sentences in; it lay discarded just off to her side, and her head rested in her hands, gazing blankly at the wooden table. It was circular, just big enough for four, and old, nicked, weathered and worn. I looked closer and saw more than random signs of age; not only did the tight, spiky characters of Eiri's name grace one inner curve, he had also carved the names of his mother, father, and sister into their respective places. Not to mention a hoard of entirely spontaneous squiggles, doodles, and divots.

Abura made a cheh-like sound that was more cough than irritation, and Eiri's mother looked up, startled. Her pale-violet eyes landed on us, first sad to see her visitors, then concerned, then overwhelmingly _happy. _

"Takara-chan, Abura-kun!" She rose, almost knocking over her chair with her shaky movements, and stepped closer. "I—It's—"

"We're here to make a cake," I said firmly. "For Eiri-kun's birthday."

-o-

A/N: **Mini Contest Time! **I'll give a guest-write to the person who draws me the best pic of Takara barefoot in a white dress. :D (Bonus points for rain and roses.)

It'll be **due**… let's see… **the chapter after next. (63)** That's **April 24th**, if my counting skills haven't deserted me again. Then again, it's not like we're actually doing anything math-related in math right now, so they probably have. :P (Example problem: Prove (1+secx)/tanx + tanx/(1+secx) = 2cscx. I kid you not. ) Soooo, regardless of date, which I'm pretty sure is actually right, **it's due on chapter 63, the chapter after next.** XD


	68. A Cake

A/N: Thanks all of you for your enduring patience. I hope you know I love you. (: (Even though I am falling behind on my messages again. DX)

As for the contest, I only have three entries; is there anyone else still intending to enter? The deadline is today, but I can extend it if you **let me know.**

And guess what? My FF birthday is coming up! April 30th, I'll be two years old! :DDDD

ART! (Contest entries not included.)

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Obsession-cover-117731494

http://jashins-gal101(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Takara-120119787

http://nekozawafan(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Akashi-Takara-120285670

http://nekozawafan(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Kyoto-Unari-119979225

http://talye05(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Stalkerish-Tendencies-116266373

(If you ever show me art and I don't link to it, let me know please!)

-o-

I had visions of a towering creation, six layers high and coated in swirls of brightly-colored frosting, elaborate candles, and tiny weapons spun of marzipan. They remained just that: visions. Intangible. We made a modest cake—_one _layer. It didn't even begin to compare to some of the luxurious desserts I'd seen at my mother's parties when I was small, but that didn't matter.

Smiling sadly, Eiri's tall, stick-thin mother, Hawe, whipped up an angel food cake—the kind with confetti in it. Determined to cheer _someone _up, I flicked little bits of batter at Abura; he glared at me and started torching them in midair, letting scorched mini-cakes plummet to the ground. I stopped before we didn't have any left for the actual cake.

I also spotted Mei standing in the kitchen doorway, trying not to giggle. When Abura turned his back, I started chucking sprinkles at his head.

The four of us—cheered by Abura's irritation, Mei had finally joined us sometime in between the pyro slipping on melted sprinkles and throwing a fireball at my head—tore apart Hawe-san's kitchen looking for frosting. When none presented itself, Mei pulled out a jar of peanut butter and held it triumphantly in the air.

"Eiri-kun's allergic to peanuts," I said solemnly, before snatching it and slathering it on the finally-baked cake. (We'd refused Abura's determined offers to bake it himself. He continued to grumble about time we could have saved.)

Apparently, I forgot to let the confection cool before peanut-buttering it; luckily, I only got a spoonful or two spread before we noticed it was… leaking.

Fighting back quiet laughter, Hawe-san pointed out that angel food cake didn't really need frosting anyway, let alone peanut butter. Having never been exposed to angel food cake before (Mom preferred devil's food), I just agreed with wide, sincere eyes, figuring the search had been good for some fun, anyway. (And some clean-up.)

Abura wrote Eiri's name in spiky, shaky characters, using a light blue gel the color of our missing teammate's eyes. With a surprisingly steady hand—yes, she would definitely be a ninja—Mei drew a shuriken in black gel beside the name.

It now being well into the afternoon, we stood back and admired our work. I snapped a picture with my heart.

We ate with smiles spread all around, a miracle on such a day (especially for Abura, who was fondest of smirking). As I neared the completion of my succulent slice, I paused, smile drifting slowly off my face while Eiri's family laughed at something Abura had said.

Isane—would have wanted to be here. We had—

Trying to make our own brightness to the day, we had failed to alleviate her gloom.

I cut her a piece. A big one—a whole point of the shuriken, sliced so it almost formed a heart. I took a smaller one for Chie-sensei and, bowing to Eiri's left-behind mother and sister, strode out the door, leaving Abura at the hands of his brand-new, eight-year-old admirer.

I had to deliver some cake.

-o-

After all this time, I still didn't know where Isane was staying, so I went to see Chie-sensei first. Halfway there, Gaara felt into step behind me—_fell into step, _not _appeared in a swirl of sand. _I half-smiled.

"Hello, Gaara-sama, how are you this afternoon?" I greeted, realizing suddenly (finally) that I had to stop ignoring him or avoiding him. It wasn't going to make anything better; maybe I just needed to—to teach him.

He regarded me with chill-faced confusion. I quailed; I couldn't meet those eyes. "Uh—it's—how you greet someone," I added in a stammer, dropping my eyes to the ground.

"A courtesy."

I flushed, chewing on my lip. "Um—yes. But—no." I glanced up at him; he looked even more bewildered. "It is, but… it doesn't have to be… if you mean it. The best friends," I mumbled, "mean it."

He seemed to be digesting this for a moment. Then he responded haltingly, "How… are you?"

Encouraged, I smiled again, forcing myself to look up. "I'm doing better," I answered as honestly as I could—details, perhaps, might be too much for him at the moment. "And you?"

"I—don't know."

I frowned. "Er—why?"

He shrugged. I stifled startlement, assuming he must have picked up the gesture from his siblings. Well, actually—he'd hardly been spending a lot of time around them. He probably picked it up from one of us.

"Well," I said carefully, "what—nevermind." I wasn't going to try and explain that right now. _Gaara _and _feelings _were still on uncertain terms. "Want some cake?"

I held up one of the plates, realizing an instant later that someone would be missing out if I gave him this. Then again, Chie-sensei could easily hop over to Hawe-san's if she wanted some, and Gaara had probably not been offered cake in a long time. If _ever_. Had anyone even celebrated his birthday? Besides Naruto's delayed ramen-buying.

He eyed it warily. I faltered. "It's—really good. Not poisoned," I promised weakly. For some reason, the thought of Gaara _eating _seemed bizarre and unreasonable. I dropped the plate back to its former level and kept walking.

"If—um—if you change your mind, we can go back to Eiri's house and get some more, after I deliver this."

Still, he didn't answer me. I tried to say something about courtesy and society, but I couldn't bring myself to. I just kept walking.

-o-

Juggling two plates of cake and knocking proved to be somewhat difficult; once I started trying to pound on the door with my elbow that a knob of sand rose into the air and practically broke down Chie-sensei's door. I smiled gratefully and said lightly, "You should try using your hands once in a while, Gaara-sama." He frowned at me. I shrugged as Chie-sensei rescued her doorway, nearly receiving a blow to the stomach for her troubles. Luckily, her reflexes and Gaara's improving control were enough to save her.

"Hello, Takara-chan," she said wryly. I held out the smaller slice of cake; the blue gel glittered subtly in the new sun.

"Hello, Chie-sensei. It's Eiri-kun's birthday. Happy Eiri-kun's birthday."

"Is Gaara-san celebrating, too?"

"Not yet," I said cheerfully, glancing at him through my peripheral vision. "But I offered him some cake. Except then there wouldn't have been enough for you and Isane-chan."

The jōnin eyed Isane's piece, accepting her own. "Looks like you could have shared that one."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Do you know where Isane-chan is staying?"

She stepped back to let us in, apparently unperturbed by having Gaara in her home. "Guest bedroom. According to the Council, so I can 'keep an eye on her,' eh, Takara-chan? Do you think she needs that?"

"No," I said firmly. "We really need a Kazekage who can tell who to trust."

Gaara regarded me steadily; I pretended not to notice as I stepped into the cool air of Chie-sensei's house. She'd painted it dark colors and kept it chillier than was strictly comfortable; but then, after spending last night in the cold and rain, it bordered on balmy.

Having been here maybe once before, I had no clue as to where her guest bedroom was located. Isane saved me the trouble of wandering aimlessly about by stepping out of a hallway and greeting, "Hey, Kori-chan!"

To my surprise, she actually looked—happy. Happy to see me? It didn't matter why; she'd had little reason to smile for a few months now. But this was not a day on which I'd have expected to see her smile.

"Are you ok, Kori-chan? You look better."

Puzzled, I hesitated, then grimaced. So far, distracted by cakes and birthdays, I'd managed to push my mother almost to the very back corner of my brain. "Um, I'm—I'm ok, Isane-chan, I—what about you?"

She shrugged, mumbling, "Just worried 'bout you, Kori-chan."

"Oh." I wasn't entirely sure what to say about that, so I just offered up the slice of cake I'd brought her. Looking delighted at the thought of sugar, she took it, asking, "What's this for?" with something even more like a smile.

Startled, I blinked at her, and then it occurred to me she might not know. This whole time, I'd assumed she knew Eiri's birthday, but maybe I'd been wrong.

"It's—it would have been Eiri-kun's birthday," I explained hesitantly. "Today. So w—his family made him a cake, and I brought you some."

"Oh." The light went out of her like a popped balloon. I cringed, wishing I had just left her alone.

"I'm sorry, Isane-chan," I said desperately, watching helplessly as a tear streaked like a shooting star across her cheek. "I thought—I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, she forced her smile back. "S'ok, Kori-chan, I jus' didn't know."

I nodded sadly. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "If—you should go see—to his house, if you can. I mean—" I tried to smile myself. "I'll be going back later, to get some cake for Gaara-sama, but Hawe-san and Mei-chan, Eiri-kun's family, they—"

"'K, Kori-chan, I will." Her lips curled a little farther upward. Giving me a one-armed hug—carefully holding her slice of cake in the other—she walked past Gaara and me and headed out the door.

Chie-sensei came up behind me. "Why later, Takara-chan, and not now?"

Face bleak, I turned to face her. "Remember when I told you I wanted to take up the sword?"

Eyes twinkling thoughtfully, she nodded. "Ready now, Takara-chan?"

"Ready now," I confirmed.

-o-

A/N: **IMPORTANT. VERY IMPORTANT.**

If you can, please help me. **Help me save a life.**

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/journal/24276938/


	69. A Lesson

A/N: WOOOOAH, long chapter. ;P Nagi-sensei was designed by EmoLollipop, as she caught 600th review. :D Thanks, dear!

Chapter a day early because I'm leaving for an aaaaanime connnnnn tomorrow and even though I could post it in the morning I'm not.

Don't expect review replies for a while, guys; I'm having some issues right now, and am trying to spend less time on the comp. But if I can, I'll still read them (and reply later), and they will make me so happy. (:

Please check out my new poll, I'd love some feedback. (:

-o-

"Go get your cake," Chie-sensei ordered me, lips twisted in a wry grin. "I'll go make you an appointment."

"What?" Confused, I started at her. "Appointment? With who?"

The jōnin chuckled, tucking a wave of azure hair behind her ear. "I'm not teaching you, Takara-chan. Nagi-sensei is."

My jaw worked soundlessly just for a moment. "I—ok," I said meekly. I had no idea who that was; I'd always spent too much time following Gaara to really know any of the other shinobi of my village. Possibly, that would be detrimental someday.

"Does she have a squad?" I ventured. Chie-sensei paused to ponder.

"Koma, Aru, Hori, I believe." I stifled a groan. Well, at least little Tsuta had escaped being on a team with those two; sands, I hadn't seen those people in what must have been years. Hori was a name I only vaguely recognized, but I hoped he had a personality that would stand up to superior Aru and Koma.

Hm. I wondered if it had gotten around that I had borrowed Aru's name. I sure hoped not.

"But she tends to give her team enough freedom; you won't be running into them," Chie-sensei added, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Especially now, I didn't want to have to deal with what was like to be ridicule.

"Alright," I sighed. "Cake for Gaara-sama." Reaching out with deceptive calm, I latched onto his wrist; he stiffened, and I let go.

"Come back when you're ready," Chie-sensei said cheerily, gesturing toward the door.

-o-

Eiri's father had come home from work while we'd been gone; I greeted him with a half-bow and an explanation that Gaara was also here to acknowledge Eiri's birthday with a piece of cake. He razed a hazel-colored eyebrow and nodded uncertainly. Mentally, he probably questioned my sanity; nobody wanted Gaara in their house.

But I'd known Eiri for a long time, and I guess that meant his father trusted me. I added a brighter smile to my greeting.

It took me a minute to remember the way to the kitchen, Gaara trailing silently in my wake. Mei was there, sneaking another little slice of cake; I grinned at her, and she skipped off, plate in hand. She didn't cast so much as a sideways glance at Gaara; maybe she'd been too young to witness the terror that surrounded him like a haze, or maybe she just didn't care. Either way, I was grateful.

Locating more plates and the cake knife, I cut Gaara one—and so he didn't feel alone, and also because it was delicious, another for myself.

Turning to face my tagalong sandman, I held out the plate.

On the kitchen floor, a few layers of sand twitched and roiled, ready to rise up and accept the cake for its master. Surprisingly, it stayed where it was; with an uncertain hand, Gaara reached up and took the plate.

I smiled winningly. He stood there and stared at it. I realized I was practically forcing it on him.

"Oh, er, Gaara-sama, you don't actually have to eat it, not if you don't want to," I said hastily. He raised his eyes to mine.

"With… my hands?"

"Oh!" Hurriedly, I began tugging open drawers, trying to recall where Hawe-san had retrieved the silverware from earlier. Locating the forks at last, I pulled out a couple and handed one to Gaara. He received it silently and poked his spongy bit of cake.

I stifled a giggle at his expression. I think he heard me anyway.

Smiling widely, I took a bite of my own, probably slightly larger than was necessary. Apparently, I smeared crumbs all over my face, because Gaara informed me slowly of this fact.

Half laughing, I wiped them off with the back of my hand. "It's really good, Gaara-sama, if you want eat it, go ahead."

Ponderously, he took a bite, perfectly sized. I tried not to stare, busying myself instead in my own slice. A few seconds later, unable to stand the suspense, I looked back up. "Well?"

"It is—"

"Sweet," I supplied, when he hesitated. Had he ever tasted sweet? "Is it good?"

"I don't—"

"Know." Frowning, I tried to think of a way to determine. _Does it make you happy? _seemed yet another question he wouldn't know the answer to.

"I believe that… I… like it."

Startled, a smile broke out across my face. "Hooray!" I cheered, grinning. "I'm gla—"

A sharp cry of surprise interrupted me; I spun, instinct turning my fork into a kunai at the ready, to see Eiri's mother standing in the kitchen doorway, shock written across her thin face.

"Ah—Hawe-san—" Her gaze leapt to me, frightened as a startled deer. "It's ok, it's—he's ok—he—cake—" I couldn't think of any way to explain to her why Suna's demon was standing in her kitchen eating cake. "It's ok," I repeated lamely. "Really."

I guess she was convinced by the fact that he hadn't killed her yet, although the sand had twitched at her reaction. She sagged against the doorframe, pale violet eyes closing for a moment, then sliding back open.

"I—" she began helplessly.

"I'm sorry," I offered lamely, my phrase of the day. "I should have asked."

"I… will leave," Gaara put forward, showing surprising insight, though clutching his plate as if that cake would safe his life.

I could tell Hawe-san wanted to take that proposal, but she recovered herself and said firmly, "You and your friends are welcome in our home whenever you wish, Takara-chan. No matter who they may be."

Gratefully, I broke into a smile and bowed. "You have no idea how much that means," I said honestly.

She half-smiled, half-grimaced in return. "Eiri always told me you were a liar."

Cringing, I tried not to let my expression falter. "Yes, well, I'm trying to get over that." To cover the fact that in and of itself, _that _was a lie, I quickly added, "Where are Isane-chan and Abura-kun?"

"Upstairs, in Eiri's room."

I raised an eyebrow at that; I couldn't help myself. "I'll leave them alone, then," I said cheerily, though I greatly wished to know what they were doing. Remembering Eiri, no doubt; what was I thinking? Isane was not so fickle as that; I needed more sleep.

Always blame the lack of sleep.

"We'll be off as soon as Gaara-sama finishes his cake," I promised. She chuckled weakly, looking far older than she was. Especially considering she was a relatively young mother.

"Take your time," she encouraged, then left the kitchen without whatever she had come for.

-o-

Gaara seemed really uncertain about finishing his cake. Maybe he didn't want a good thing to be gone, but after eating more cake myself—enough that I felt bloated by the end—I managed to convince him it would be alright to eat the rest. Through the kitchen window, I could see the shadows lengthening as the sun fell, and I wanted to at least be introduced to Nagi-sensei before the day was out.

Feeling guilty about just leaving them, I quickly rinsed off our dishes and set them in the sink. I couldn't take any more time than that.

Two steps out the front door, I drew in a breath and turned to face Gaara.

"Please, accept my—" I stopped, sighed, started over.

"I'm sorry, for what I said last night, Gaara-sama. I hope you can forgive me."

"Why?"

I hesitated. "Because I need you to."

He frowned. "I… do not know how."

"Just—just say you do, Gaara-sama. And don't hate me for it."

"Hate—is a… powerful force," he said ponderously. "It… fuels rage and pain and revenge." He turned pale-cold eyes to my dark ones and held the stare.

"I do not… wish to kill you."

_You did once,_ I thought, but out loud, I just said, "Thank you."

"Then… you are forgiven?"

"I hope so." I smiled a little sadly.

"Go home, Gaara-sama," I said quietly, hoping the angry demon inside didn't take it as an order. "Learn something from your family today. I can't teach you everything."

-o-

Just for fun and a little practice, I took the shadowy way back to Chie-sensei's house. The door opened halfway through my first knock; I'd barely tapped the stone when I found myself face-to-face with a woman sporting thigh-length, jade green hair that curled tightly at the ends.

"Taka!" she greeted me as if we were old, best friends, beaming like the sun. "She has been waiting to meet you for ages!"

"Who is she?" I asked cautiously, slightly confused.

"Ishiko Nagisa, at your service!" Grinning, she half bowed, peering up at me with eyes that shimmered silver-brown, like the underside of an aspen leaf in autumn.

Hm. I had spent too much time in Konoha if I was trying to use their analogies now.

"Nagi-sensei?" I tried, for confirmation.

"Nagi-sensei," she repeated, unfaltering. I smiled tentatively, wondering if I should offer my own name, though she obviously already knew it.

Chie-sensei saved me. She came up behind her friend, azure hair fitting beside jade like Konoha's forest against the sky. "Nagi-chan, don't frighten Takara-chan before you've had a chance to place a blade in her hands," she chuckled, casting an amused eye at me. Nagi snorted.

"She won't be even _seein' _a blade for months, not 'til she's got th' basics down. That's why Nagi-sensei has to teach her." She winked, catching my hand and skipping down the street like a little girl, dragging me behind her.

Wide-eyed, I stared back over my shoulder at Chie-sensei, half pleading, half just scared. Not for my life, but possibly for my sanity.

-o-

She hadn't lied; when we reached her chosen training field, a circular area of sand at least a foot deep, Nagi-sensei handed me a stick about the length of a katana. Wondering where she'd gotten it—sticks weren't exactly common here in the desert—I examined it, finding notches where the cross-guard would be. Looking up to see my new teacher grinning at me, arms crossed, I dropped my hand, holding the wooden pole limply at my side.

"She'll show you stances, first," Nagi-sensei informed me happily, and spent the next several weeks positioning my feet, my hands, my knees, my elbows, my back, and every other part of my body, speaking in third person the whole time.

Sometimes, Gaara came to watch, sitting cross-legged with cold eyes on the roof just above. If his presence bothered Nagi-sensei, she never showed it, and I tried to follow her example. His eyes made me nervous.

After a few weeks—maybe more; nothing else interesting happened in the intervening time, so it blurred together—when I could have placed my feet correctly in my sleep, Nagi started making me _move. _It felt like I was dancing for a month—every once in a while, I woke up twitching—before the green-haired jōnin finally came at me with a sword.

Well, actually, though she wore a katana strapped across her back, she came at me with a stick, slightly longer than mine. She used it to show me a few very basic moves, all defensive. I had to practice them almost nonstop.

After that, we were deployed again. The Council ordered Chie-sensei, Abura, Isane, and me to join the chase, cleaning out the ranks of Kansei-nin.

It was a bloody, brutal job. It made me sick.

Sometimes, Gaara accompanied us, and that made it all the easier. He knew how to kill, and occasionally, that meant the rest of us didn't have to.

I don't know what he did when he wasn't with us. Maybe his squad had its own missions. Maybe he just stayed home, took my words to heart, and learned how to be human from his brother and sister.

During those months at war destroying other people's families, we snatched infrequent day-long breaks at home in Suna. As I had been doing for the month and a half prior to the mission, I stayed with Nagi-sensei; she trained me as much as possible in that time. I wondered frequently if her team had some mission at home, or if she just let them go out on their own.

Two months in, my stick snapped during one of our lessons. Nagi replaced it with a wooden katana and forced me promise to use it as much as I could during missions. The thought of killing by bashing people's heads in made me sick, but I agreed anyway, figuring I could always call it a lie. That is, until I found out she merely meant to practice, against trees or Chie-sensei or even my teammates in moments of leisure; bashing heads required different skills than the slicing of a katana.

Three months after we'd been ordered out, and two weeks since we'd seen any sign of a Kansei shinobi, the missions ceased. I collapsed on Nagi-sensei's couch, Chie-sensei's words ringing in my ears: _The Kansei-nin have been eradicated. _

I imagined quite a few Kansei families were missing fathers, sons, mothers, or daughters—or, desert gods forgive us, some combination thereof. They'd been a budding shinobi village, but there had been more of them than we'd thought.

Feeling bile rise in my throat, I squeezed my eyes shut tight and pretended not to notice my teacher enter the room.

She left me alone, not even cheerily convincing me to get up and learn something new. I lay there and wondered why we were killing the children in Kansei instead of the masters locked up in Kumo.

They, after all, had started this.

And they deserved it.

What if they came back and tried again?


	70. A Disturbance

A/N: Hey, loves! Here is a chapter. It is written by the lovely Claam—who, despite her upcoming claims, is not the reason for the hiatus at all. This posting does NOT, unfortunately, mean the hiatus is over. I AM STILL ON HIATUS. The chapters are still not going to be back on schedule. They will come when they come.

I wanted each of the Ame-nin to write a chapter, so Claam started that, and Tap will write the next one, then Aria, and hopefully after that, I'll be writing again. If I… can handle it.

I read each of your reviews with love. I'm sorry I have not yet done the same with replying to them. Thanks to everyone who's supported me in this. I really appreciate it. (:

P.S. Not only did Claam take the time to write a wonderful chapter, she did some fantastic fanart which I adore: http://claamchowder(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/The-Obsession-FANART-128701559

**Claam here! Sorry for the HIATUS and all… you can blame me for that. XD But… um, yeah. Here's your chapter.**

**SORRY THAT IT SUCKS. FEAR THE AMOUNT OF DIALOGUE **

**-throws apologies at everyone- **

-o-

I had been mulling over the whole Kansei-nin ordeal for days, often playing scenarios in my head where they broke out of their prison in Kumo and came all the way _here_. They'd no doubt want revenge. I'd try to think of how I would try to fight them off; sometimes. I saw myself running away, simply because—in my mind—I was all alone, surrounded by a sea of Kansei-nin. Of course, there wouldn't _be_ a sea of them if they did manage to break out.

We had made sure of that.

Finally, when it started to become more than just thoughts, when it became nightmares of all things, I decided _enough was enough_. I needed to just stop thinking about it. They were in jail and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. And even if something did happen. it wasn't like the Kumo-nin were incompetent.

Once I had come to that conclusion, I simply grabbed my wooden sword and went outside. After all, a little training would do me some good.

-o-

I went through the drills Nagi-sensei had taught me, starting with the most basic, then slowly escalating into the ones I had more difficulty with. It was easier to do them without another waving their stick at me, trying to get a blow in. Well, that would be expected.

_Bet Eiri wouldn't have trouble with this, though,_ I thought with a smile. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

And so I continued, absorbed in my practice, practically oblivious to all arou—

"Ah man, I friggin' _hate_ Suna!"

Turning around with the wooden katana resting on my shoulder, I decided to see just who had broken my focus. I wouldn't yell at them or anything; I didn't think I'd be able to. I just wanted to see. Wiping some sweat off my brow (I remember that my mother would always correct me—when she wasn't too distracted by her party guests—saying that, "Women don't sweat; we _perspire_"), I slunk over to the side of the nearest building where the source of the noise seemed to be coming from.

Feeling lazy and tired, and not really seeing the need for it, I decided to not use my ability to see with shadows; I simply peered around the corner of the building. I was met with a sight that wasn't all that surprising: a bunch of Genin all hanging out with each other.

However, said bunch of Genin were most definitely _not_ from Sunagakure, even if their _hitai-ate_ said otherwise. No, the Genin that were all sitting lazily in a circle were the very ones I had encountered before in the forests of Konoha: the Ame-nin from before.

And once again, their senseis were nowhere to be seen. I was strangely curious as to what Kasumi's sensei looked like. Then again, it would be odd to see a couple of adults handing around with young teenagers.

"Daisuke-kun," Sumairu said in his annoyingly soft voice, "you might not want to loudly voice your opinions amidst enemy territory. It could get us… in trouble."

"Yeah, old man Daisuke," Kasumi said with a taunting smirk. "If we get caught, it'd be your fault. _You'd_ be the one who messed up the plan. And you know how Kai-sensei gets when plans are messed up because one of us made a stupid mistake."

"Shut up!"

I started zoning out after that, since all they seemed to be doing was jabbering back in forth in a mindless argument. It wasn't until Onion-head—whose name was still a mystery—seemed to get tired of it and cut in with a sharp "_Enough!_"

Hiiragi nodded in agreement as she leaned forward and began to talk in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. Of course I couldn't hear what she was saying, so I crept forward ever-so-slightly, pulling a cloak of shadows over me just in case. I wasn't very cautious, since I knew that Kasumi wouldn't be able to use that frost jutsu of hers—this was the _desert—_and I was in my own playing grounds. I knew this place like the back of my hand. I better, what with all those years of following Gaara.

"…convince him to help us get ours back. After all, what better way to catch a jinchuuriki than to use a jinchuuriki?"

_Jinchuuriki_. That's what Gaara was—is. So they wanted to use him to find their demon holder?

"But I doubt he'll come so easily," Sumairu pointed out. "We'll need a bargaining chip of some sort."

I began to creep backwards once I thought I'd heard enough. These guys wanted to get Gaara to help them out by using a threat of some kind? Let them. They'd learn soon enough that threatening _Gaara_ meant death. A gritty, golden death.

Suddenly there was a loud crack, which was then followed by intense pain, then… nothing.

The only thing I managed to catch before fading into nothingness was the sound of Onion-head's voice letting out a low chuckled.

"You think a shinobi of his village would be enough?"

_How did he get behind me?_

-o-

I awoke tied up and surrounded by the six Ame-nin, all of which seemed to be staring at me expectantly. It was almost as if they were waiting for me to… I don't even know what they wanted me to do.

"I don't think this Gaara will come with us if we only have _this_ chick." Daisuke was the first to speak up, his blue eyes narrowing as he looked me over. "I mean, last time we ran into her she was rescued by some kid with swooshy hair."

_Swooshy hair?_ He must mean Abura. _Well, his hair does swoosh...._

I couldn't help but let out a moan from the throbbing headache I'd gained earlier—how much earlier? It could've been yesterday. It felt like someone was repeatedly bashing a dull kunai into my skull, and it hurt _bad. _

"We'll never know until we try," Hiiragi mumbled as she rolled a senbon between her fingers, then, with a quick flick of her wrist, embedded it into the wall behind her.

Speaking of walls… these ones were strange. They looked craggy, crude, and were a dark brown in color. It looked like someone decided a layer of earth would be more attractive than _wallpaper._ And sand was seeping through the cracks.

Regular buildings in Suna never had sand seeping through cracks. They were built so that it'd take an _insane_ amount of time to actually have the sand weather them that much.

This wasn't a Suna-made structure.

"Daisuke-kun, sand is coming through again," said Kasumi as she indicated the small grains of gold trickling into the area.

He grumbled as he went through a series of hand signs before walking up to the wall and slamming his palms against it. When he lifted them, the cracks were gone, as was the sand.

"I can't always fix the little cracks, you know. Gotta save my chakra…"

"You should've made it so that there _wouldn't_ be any cracks in the first place. After all, _you made this place._"

The silver-haired teen looked as if he was about to punch her in the face. He obviously didn't like to be criticized about his jutsu.

"Let me go," I finally decided to say. "Let me go _now_." Even though it was obvious that they wouldn't, I still wanted to at least try….

"Yeah right."

I don't even know who said that, because I was knocked out again.

_This is sad...._

-o-

When I awoke again, I was in an entirely different place. And it was dark.

Instead of the ropes that bound me earlier, I was being held in midair by a tall column of ice that came all the way up to my elbows, disabling me from trying to free myself. I was numb throughout my whole body and slumped over. Despite any and all efforts, I wasn't able to move my head more than a couple inches in any direction.

Was this how an animal felt when they were tranquilized?

"Just a few more seconds and he should be here," Raincoat-child informed the others.

I wanted to ask how he knew this, but I myself should've known the answer.

Gaara liked to spend his time on the rooftops. It wouldn't be too hard to simply spot a strange tower with a _girl_ poking out of the top.

And so he came.


	71. A Flaw

A/N: Darlings. How did I ever leave this? Words of this story just flow from my fingertips like paint telling the tale. I missed you.

Tap wrote a piece of this chapter. Without her, I would had nothing to go on, no idea where to start. Thank you, dear. And thank you for giving it back.

(CHAPTERS NOT RETURNING TO REGULAR SCHEDULE. I have way too much to do. But I'll do my best.

PS – it's after 2 a.m. Forgive my mistakes. ;;)

-o-

I was getting sick of being cold.

How could I have been so stupid? _Kasumi wouldn't be able to use that frost jutsu of hers—this was the_ desert. Yeah, and the desert got cold at night. I had grown too used to Konoha, where temperature changes were less drastic between night and day, I guess. Summer nights in Konoha were balmy.

Summer nights in the desert were not.

Shivering violently against the solid grasp of ice, I squeezed my eyes shut. A memory swam blurrily in and out of view against the insides of my eyelids.

"_I_ told_ you we needed to be careful."_

_Kasumi stuck her tongue out at a very peeved Daisuke and grinned. They, along with the rest of the group of Ame-nin, were trying to make it to the edge of Suna._

_Daisuke frowned, glaring at his female teammate. "Just shut up, okay? I set the traps like you told me to, so I shouldn't hear your nagging," he snapped._

"_But Daisuke-kun, they became very...helpful." Sumairu grinned playfully, showing off his oddly-serrated teeth. He then motioned toward the back, where a very girly-looking boy—Raincoat-child—carried me over his shoulder. I flopped awkwardly, getting half glances of ground, irritable shinobi faces, and the back of Raincoat-child's red raincoat. "After all...we managed to catch ourselves...a prize."_

"_Tch." Daisuke turned his head away as he thought. The traps had seemed like a huge waste of time and chakra to him, I think. But they _had_ caught me. Onion-head had crept behind me once he realized I was there, his weight activating the device in the ground as I stepped back. _

_That_ was how I'd been caught as if I were a first-year genin, letting someone get behind me. He'd only been there for an instant, but I'd been standing in a trap. Furious, I thrashed against my prison, trying to crack the ice. I should _know _about traps; I had a trap-master on my team.

Obviously, she was going to have to teach me something, because I didn't know very much at all.

Abandoning my futile attempts at escape, I opened my eyes and tried to think. I was towering over Suna clasped in a pillar of ice. How were people not seeing me? It was night. That was ridiculous. People were still out and about at night, just bundled up and only if they were on business, had pregnant wives, or wandered the shadier sides of town.

Point: Fewer people would see me at night, but not none. Somebody would tell somebody who would care.

An instant later, I heard swearing from below. I couldn't make out the exact words, but I smiled in grim satisfaction around my chattering teeth. Of course somebody would see me.

Support dropped out from under me; I plummeted sickeningly fast in the wake of quickly-melting ice. Soft mud caught me, sliming my skin and jolting me to a halt. Sourly, I sputtered, spitting a mouthful of grime at the silver-haired genin. I fell the last three feet to the ground, mud dispersing like paint running down a wall.

"Someone's coming." Kasumi was muttering to Sumairu a short distance away, words issuing from her mouth in a rush. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"We did think of that," the green-haired genin replied calmly. "That is why we came to the edge of Sunagakure."

"I got news for you," I said loudly, sitting up in the puddle of ice-cold mud and water. "You're on the edge, but you're up against a rock wall."

Sumairu cast me a scathing glance. Pointedly, Daisuke leaned against the stone cliff, looking smug. A crack spiderwebbed out from his shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he frowned at it; the fracture lengthened a miniscule amount and otherwise remained the same.

"Is that our escape plan just gone down the drain?" Hiiragi demanded.

I reined in a snicker. They actually thought that, as genin, they could tunnel out through the sentinel cliffs of Suna? Like no one had ever thought of using earth jutsu to get in before. Sunagakure had withstood the tests of time and war too long to let three Ame-nin teenagers infiltrate now.

Which begged the question of how they'd come through in the first place. Well, Hiiragi was apparently sneaky; she must have got them in. Couldn't go out the same way because I sure wasn't planning on coming quietly.

"You wouldn't be able to outrun Gaara—or the other shinobi—anyway," I informed them aloofly.

The voice of Onion-head—I had to learn that boy's name—tickled my ear. Behind me again. I had to _focus_, or I was going to get myself killed; I was slipping, back into the incompetence I'd suffered from in my youth. "Don't need to."

Sharp blade at my throat—just what I needed again. I swallowed weakly. "We'll tell Gaara—one twitch of the sand, your throat is cut."

"How will you tell a twitch of his sand from a twist of the breeze?" I retorted, mentally cringing. This standing and talking thing was not my forte. I should be hidden. Quiet. Taking them down silently, not making fun of their lack of foresight.

I could hear the sly smile in his voice. "Better hope there's no wind."

"Too late," I said, because I saw the sand swirling up beneath my feet.

Fingers of grit ripped the blade from my jugular so violently I was almost afraid it would snap back and kill me anyway. Spinning, I yelled, "_Don't kill him!_" to Gaara, who had the onion-headed boy wrapped in gold like a Christmas present in July.

I glanced at the sky, judged the time, and rephrased the simile.

A Christmas present in August.

Something collided solidly with my shoulder. I yelped and twisted around to see Onion-head, collapsible metal pole extended and resting casually against his collarbone as he leveled me a reproving stare. Gaara had released him so quickly? A quick look past my opponent revealed the redhead facing down Raincoat-child, whose hands blurred as he whipped heavy metal weights back and forth, trying to slip between Gaara's sands.

Onion-head attacked; I had no way to parry, only dodge. Nagi-sensei would be on my case: My wooden katana was not an extension of my arm. We were not one. I had not noticed that I didn't have it.

Of course, I had been unconscious and suspended in a tower of ice. But I should have at least realized it was gone long before this.

I ducked as Onion-head swung again, glancing frantically around in case one of the Amegakure genin had conveniently brought my weapon along with them. Reasonably, they had not; I ducked, jumped to avoid a low swing, clipped my foot, and tumbled to the soft sand.

"Raincoat-child is going down," I informed Onion-head in what was nearly a growl. He froze, mid-swing, weapon quivering as he forced it to defy its momentum.

"What did you call him?"

Edging imperceptibly away from the vibrating metal shaft, I repeated—only a _little_ sheepishly—"Raincoat-child."

"Name's Kurocha."

"How would I know that?"

"Now you do." Apparently satisfied, he twisted back the other way, whipping his weapon around toward me. Repressing a screech of terror—that thing would take my _head _off—I threw myself back to the ground, tasting sand. Metal whistled over my head.

"I saved your life!" I said indignantly. "Don't kill _me_!"

"Won't kill you. Can't get Gaara with all them." Foolishly, I glanced back and nearly lost a foot at the ankle. I scrambled forward, noting happily that several other Suna shinobi were trickling into view.

About time. Then again, a group of Amegakure genin could hardly constitute as a sufficient threat to bring the jōnin running.

An ear-splitting crack split the air as I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Daisuke spin and crash his fist into the flawed surface of the cliff. To my surprise, the rock crumbled, leaving a small cave.

Onion-head, taking advantage of my shock, slid his weapon closed and latched onto my arm. Startled, I jerked back, but he dragged me after the other Ame shinobi as they crammed in. Ada extracted himself from his fight with Gaara and dashed toward the cliff, racing the sand that pursued relentlessly.

My hand thrashed out, catching someone on the side of the head as Kurocha thudded into my back—definitely leaving a bruise where one metal weight met my shoulder blade—and stone crashed back upward over the entrance.

Seven of us, crammed together in darkness.

"Oh, desert gods," I moaned. "I'm going to suffocate."

"So are the rest of us," someone else muttered, voice muffled by the tightly-knit group. "So stop complaining."

"Daisuke," said Kasumi clearly, "sand is coming through the cracks again."

"Well, yeah!" the silver-haired teen retorted. "That guy is battering against the wall, what do you expect?"

"For you to block up the holes."

"And suffocate us all!" I emphasized, outraged.

"Did we perhaps have a plan for escaping this situation?"

"Daisuke, get tunneling."

"HAH!"

-o-

List of missed fanart—plus, two music videos! I will continue to post all this in the beginnings of chapters, but you can see it soon after I do by visiting **the blog!** _Stalkertakara(dot)blogspot(dot)com_ has all my updates and fanart as they come. Please, check it out—and leave me comments! You don't need to log in to comment, and you must know how I love hearing from y'all!

If you don't, it's because I haven't reminded you in a while. :3 LOVE!

_By others:_

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5292441/1/Burned

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Day-3-137830588

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Day-4-137899794

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Day-5-137975095

http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Day-6-138135723

http://hakuspreciousperson(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Takara-and-Gaara-heart-143283467

http://hakuspreciousperson(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/quot-Gaara-sama-quot-144137558

_By me: _

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/69-Study-132176182

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/To-Catch-a-Cake-132493458

http://ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/75-Death-133071362

_MUSIC VIDEOS!!!!_

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=ZN-tljIyvFo

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=L8k8wHpnFWY


	72. A Dispute

A/N: Just to prove I'm actually really back, not posting spontaneous chapters and leaving again for a million years, here's another chapter! I'll probably wait at least a week from now on to post them, no matter how quickly they get written, but you guys deserve a reward for being so patient. Thank you, everyone. _Everyone_.

Expect some fallacies—I'm trying to untangle everything, but it's hard to put a ton of thought in when I'm stealing writing-time around the thousand other things I have to do. If it doesn't make sense to you, rest assured: It makes sense in my head, I just didn't do a good job of explaining it. X3

Also: new poll. Vote?

EDIT: There seemed to have been a problem where the whole thing was in italics. That should be fixed now. -.-" Also, if you can't review, it's because I deleted some old author notes and that set the chapters back to numbers that had already been posted. If you reviewed one of the old numbers, it will not let you review it again, even though it's a completely different chapter. A silly system. -.-"

-o-

Someone shifted, elbowing me in the side. I winced slightly, but said nothing. Smugness began to overtake me. We were trapped in the close darkness, through which they couldn't see me—or each other. But for the rustling of cloth and muted conversation, they could have been alone.

But I grew up in the shadows and made them my favorite home. I could see through the gloom and know more than my captors. And—if I could just get past Kurocha—I could slide through the crumbly stone wall back to Gaara.

Of course, at this rate, that might not be necessary. His sand barraged the chakra-suffused rock with surprising vehemence, widening tiny cracks and seeking a way in. I'd be out soon enough.

For a moment, I considered slipping right through Kurocha to the wall, but the thought of tickling someone's innards as I escaped repulsed me. I would wait.

"Kurocha," said a voice out of the darkness. I frowned in concentration, trying to decide who it was, but I hadn't been exposed to these people long enough to recognize them by voice. "Sleep. Now."

"From _here_?" His cheery, lilting voice rose in disbelief from right behind me, losing its usual bored undertone. "You want me to put out a number of jōnin and the jinchuuriki of Sunagakure from here?"

"Since Daisuke has failed to get us out—"

"Hey, that's not my fault! Seriously, under the cliffs? Whose plan was that?!"

"—and I see no other option of escape—"

"You could just let me go," I interrupted irritably, guessing I spoke to Sumairu.

"—then, yes, from here."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"If Daisuke opened the wall…"

"I open the wall and we're all dead. Probably her, too."

"I cannot even sleep one of them from here. Out there I could actually throw my weights. Maybe knock someone out."

"Just a word of advice," I put in helpfully. "Whatever you plan, don't put Gaara to sleep."

"And why not?" someone—Hiiragi?—asked scathingly. "So he can save you?"

"Because he's a jinchuuriki," I retorted. "And sleeping brings it out. Didn't you know that? Isn't that why you're here?"

"We definitely don't want to wake up the Shukaku," came the mutter.

"I think our only choice really is to let her go.

"Are you kidding?! After all this work?!"

"Do you _want_ to die, old man?"

"You're going to pay for that!"

"Ow."

"Sorry, wrong person."

While they argued, I shifted and wiggled my way around Kurocha. Someone shoved me, probably under the assumption that I was someone else. Feathery hair brushed against my face; the material of Kurocha's shiny, plastic-y raincoat stuck to my skin; a bruise bloomed on my cheek when someone punched me by mistake.

At last, I pressed up against rough, gouging stone. "It's probably not a good idea to fight in a cramped space!" I called cheerily to the lot of them, and merged with the shadows coating the wall.

Thinner and thinner I breathed, until I was nothing, a shade who never wanted to take tangible form again. Rock cut through me but I felt nothing as I passed between and slid out into cold desert air.

I solidified in a crouch against the cliff, rising to my feet and bringing my hands up all in one motion. "Gaara, _stop_!" I yelled, flinching backwards as the sand crashed toward me.

It fell in a spray of gold. Gaara stood behind it, arms crossed, looking—nothing. He didn't seem relieved or happy or upset or anything. Maybe a little bored.

I sighed. "They'll come out in a little bit," I murmured. "Please don't kill them." Glancing around, I noted that the other ninja had dispersed, probably deciding that Gaara had everything under control. "Let's go."

"Don't kill them?"

Startled, I looked back at him, pausing in my departure. "No?"

"But… they are enemies. Of Sunagakure."

"…Nah," I exhaled. "They're just kids. Like us. Come on."

I would never make it as a shinobi. I taught the ultimate weapon of our village how not to kill, how not to protect us anymore.

Did that make me a traitor?

-o-

The sky lightened and seeped warmth under my skin, a relief from the lingering chill of ice-prison and desert night. My lack of sleep tugged me home to Nagi-sensei's couch and rest, but Chie-sensei sent Abura and Isane and I on patrol around the outskirts of Suna. So as not to keep us trapped during a siege, numerous secret passages honeycombed the cliffs—_very_ secret; not even we knew half of them, and all were hidden from earth jutsus. We checked the ones we could find and watched the sky where it shone over the precipice.

One day, I decided suddenly, I wanted to climb to the top and watch the sunrise from the flat roof of the stone fortress-wall. Or maybe the sunset, so I wouldn't be left in the light when it was over.

I strolled along, not entirely concerned with patrol. Numerous higher-level ninja had this job for real; Chie-sensei had merely assigned it for practice, I was sure. Abura scowled diligently around, checking for enemies; and Isane searched anxiously, desperate to prove to anyone watching that she was faithful to Suna now.

I didn't have the heart to disillusion her. If someone really didn't trust Isane, they would construe her frantic glances as taking in everything possible to report back to Kumo. Come to think of it, Chie-sensei must not have told anyone she let us do this, or they would have protested violently against an outsider knowing the location of _any_ secret ways in or out of Sunagakure.

Of course, we didn't check them conspicuously. Just subtle shifts of the eyes and unseen testing for unfamiliar human chakra behind the stone. Traitors in the village wouldn't find ways in or out by watching us. So really, Isane was just along for the ride. She could keep her eyes on the sky.

We came to the great corridor that divided the cliff and let welcome guests in. I peered down its length and then sauntered past.

"Cheh." Pretty sure Abura was rolling his eyes at me, I turned around. He stood in the middle of the gap, arms crossed, Isane hovering uncertainly beside him. "We should go through it."

"No, why would we do that?" I disagreed. "There are plenty of shinobi guarding it already, and if we take Isane through, someone might think she's trying to escape."

Abura's _cheh_ was particularly long and disdainful. Sands, was he scornful of _everything_? Could that be why he made that sound before practically every sentence? Almost two years and I still didn't exactly know. Less than two years? It seemed infinitely longer than that.

"Escape? To where? From where?"

Grumbling irritably, I trundled back toward him and down the break in the cliff, not in the mood for an argument.

"Kori-chan, where's your katana?"

Automatically, my hand twitched toward my shoulder, where I normally would have reached to retrieve the wooden blade. "I lost it."

I thought Abura was going to choke; his _cheh_ sounded like a strangled laugh. "Nagi-sensei's going to kill you."

Scowling, I informed him aloofly, "She calls you Ra-ra."

Insane giggling overtook Isane; she nearly collapsed in hysterics. Abura adopted a stoic expression and said, "Cheh, that's irrelevant to the conversation."

"I just thought you should know."

He spun on his heel and stalked back to the village, Isane hobbling after him, disabled by her laughter. Apparently, he no longer needed to check the cliff-bordered corridor for enemies.

Snickering, I trailed behind them, kicking up clouds of sand that reminded me of miniature Gaaras swirling in and out of existence. He had left when Chie-sensei had told us to patrol, hopefully to go see if his own squad had a mission. It worried me, the amount of time he spent around us—me. Maybe I should try to impress on him the importance of loyalty to his own teammates—his own family.

Abura and Isane drew farther and farther ahead as I slowed down. I really would have to go to Nagi-sensei and tell her about how I'd lost my practice katana, and she'd probably make me carve the new one myself. While I ran laps around the village.

Or I could try to figure out where I dropped it and see if it remained. That seemed like a pretty good plan; cheered, I picked up the pace, then heard a vaguely familiar voice issuing out of the rock.

"Ssst. Hey."

Curious, I turned my head and ambled closer to the stone wall. A bright blue eye peered at me through a hole; I started to back up, not liking at all where this was going. Too late: a small section of the cliff dissolved into pebbles, a gloved hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, and pressing darkness closed around me once more.

"You have got to be kidding me."


	73. A Passage

A/N: **IMPORTANT! **PLEASE BE SURE YOU READ THE LAST CHAPTER! I posted **TWO **chapters last week! You may have gotten a notification of the second one and been told _**BAD URL**. _This is because I deleted an old AN and it slid the chapters back one, effectively **SENDING YOU FORWARD IN TIME WHEN YOU CLICKED THAT LINK. **Unfortunately, FF dot Net does not yet possess the capacity for time travel; hence, 'bad url.' Please remember to go read 'Chapter 74: A Dispute' (which is, by the way, _actually _chapter 66, although that is irrelevant), which I posted about two days after 'Chapter 74: A Flaw.' Thank you.

-o-

My vision cleared as the shadows seeped into them and let me see. "I should have let Gaara kill you," I said furiously, yanking my hand free and nearly cracking my head against stone as I jerked backward from the six Ame genin gathered in a small cave in front of me. "Let me out. How did you get here? You're never going to get out of the village without being seen, we're in the _desert_, and at the main entrance, too."

A snicker stemmed forth from the gloom. "We followed a guy into a secret passage. Convenient. Know how to get out of the village all the way to the side, where people aren't watching."

A guy? What guy? Some careless shinobi? Idiot. As soon as I escaped, I would have to tell someone important to have this tunnel collapsed, or else these genin would reveal it to the world and Suna would be jeopardized.

"This is stupid. What do you even want? Gaara, was it? Capturing me isn't going to do anything." I folded my arms and scowled at the lot of them.

"He seemed rather frantic for your return. Is he that loyal to the shinobi of his village, or did he simply not want to be deprived of killing us all? Jinchuuriki are rather violent."

"He wanted to kill you all," I said irritably. "And I'm his friend. But taking me out of Suna isn't going to help, since he's not going to know where I am."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that one." Kurocha moved toward me, grabbing me by the waist and slinging me over his shoulder uncomfortably. "Hiiragi's off to issue ultimatums and all that to the jinchuuriki. We'll see them in Amegakure."

I kicked wildly at my captor, whose head, I'm fairly certain, was prettier than mine. "It won't work! Put me down!"

I wasn't even sure if I lied. Had Gaara changed enough that he would hesitate to let Hiiragi speak his piece? Or was he still too impatient, too bloodthirsty, too apathetic to come after me?

Selfishly, I hoped the former. I didn't like rain.

Of course, there was still time to get out of this, I reasoned. So far, I had failed to talk my way out of it, but I had hope. Instead of struggling to escape, I remained calm, hoping Kurocha would relax his grip—or better yet, put me down, because the position in which he held me was really uncomfortable. Negotiation did not come easily to me; I just let out a stream of words, some complete lies and some reasonable arguments. All were shot down or ignored. Finally, Daisuke slammed his hands against the stone that cupped us in its embrace, shattering a hole out into the desert instead of finding the actual exit.

I broke down.

"No! No way you're taking me out there! I just got back!" Was I to spend so little time at home? Right—I had no home anymore; I lived on Nagi-sensei's couch and in the shadow and under the ruling of shinobi conduct. My 'real' home had been tainted by death, like everything else in the life of a ninja. Did we shinobi ever even have homes to begin with?

Kidnapped. Kidnapped _again, _I couldn't believe it. The last time I'd been lured from my village and captured, I'd ended up spitting lies at the man who would kill my brother. My mistake. Wasn't going to let that happen again.

I thrashed.

And while I thrashed, I thought_, At least they're Ame-nin. At least they're not from Kumo. Or Kansei._

Because there's always one, I knew. There's always one who gets away. And one last Kansei-nin was out there, somewhere, our names on his blades.

Even if there wasn't, his shadowy, nebulous face would haunt my nightmares until we found him—or he found us.

I felt unconsciousness sweep back toward me in response to my struggling. _One of them has a jutsu_, I decided disjointedly before I lost awareness. If I'd been hit this many times in the head with one of Raincoat-child's weights, or Onion-head's metal pole, I'd have a number of concussions and a thundering migraine. Someone was putting me out with a jutsu.

It was probably genjutsu. I would have been able to snap it, if I'd realized it in time to form a release.

-o-

I woke with a scorching sunburn and sweat stinging my eyes. Sand cupped me like a mother cradling her infant—but the soft touch dissolved into insidious scratching grit. I rolled out of the hollow that had formed around me, wincing as thread scraped over a fishnet-patterned burn on my arms. Great.

Sitting up, I watched Kasumi touching her fingers to Daisuke's cupped hands. A trickle of water slid down to partially fill the small basin. Daisuke gulped it down as the blonde girl moved on to the next pair of hands.

"Hey, you could give us a bit more," Daisuke grumbled, staring mournfully at the last few drops clinging to a crease in his palm.

"There's not exactly a lot of moisture in the air," Kasumi retorted, temper fraying in the heat. "You're already basically drinking my sweat."

"Ew, gross!" The silver-haired genin flung his hands out, spraying the remaining droplets off his skin. I sighed as the precious water hit the sand.

"Cool it, old man, it's not sweat. Then I would just have to drink to replenish my own moisture, so that would be pointless. Deal with it."

"You really expect to get all the way across the desert on half a handful of water each?" I interjected mildly. Several of them jumped, having been unaware that I was awake; Raincoat-child—Kurocha—splashed water (appropriately) onto his raincoat.

"We'll make it," Kasumi said defensively. She looked worn out and dehydrated, and I knew she wasn't going to make it out of the desert herself, let alone making water for everyone else.

"Don't lie to me," I said cheerfully, masking a pang. Lies. I was being irrational; I should quit Abura's challenge. I had nothing to prove. But I continued to try. "I can tell. You're all going to die."

"And I suppose if we take you back you'll give us water and let us go free," Daisuke said sarcastically.

I glanced back over my shoulder, squinting at the horizon into the sun. Wait, into the sun? Frowning, I tried to visualize a map; Amegakure was… straight north of Suna? Yeah, almost. We were probably going straight north. I changed the direction of my gaze and peered into the distance. Not a speck to break the disparity of the rolling dunes.

"Nope," I said. "You won't make it that far either."

"Made it this far, didn't we?"

"And ran out of water."

I received a glare for my troubles. I smiled blithely back.

"I suppose you have a better idea, then?"

Another glance around. It was hard to navigate in the desert, with the wind constantly shifting the sands, but I'd passed the survival test just like everybody else. On the second try, even. (It didn't help that I insisted on wearing black even in the merciless sun.)

"I know where an oasis is."

Sumairu graced me with a chilling smile. "What's the catch?"

"Leave me there," I said sweetly, "and go home."

"Not a chance."

I looked around ostentatiously, surveying the group that was conspicuously devoid of Hiiragi. "Your friend's not back yet, and we've come quite a way. Still think Gaara's following?"

Kurocha and Onion-head exchanged an expression of uneasiness that I failed to miss. I folded my arms, forgetting the burn and hissing in pain. I needed some aloe. At least cold water. But no shadows lingered here; I couldn't just turn invisible at will, under the blazing light of the sun.

We stared each other down, the Ame-nin and I, before I gave in with an internal curse. Stupid black. Why couldn't I have learned to turn into a butterfly and fly away into the sun or something like that? Instead of relying on shadows—in the desert.

But I never really regretted it.

In fact, at the contemplation of the idea, my blood suddenly ran cold. Live without the darkness? I wouldn't be able to bear it. _I _was what a ninja was supposed to be: hidden. Stealthy. Secret.

When it wasn't full noon without a cloud in the sky anyway.

"Alright," I said, rolling my eyes and spinning on my heel, almost slipping in the sand beneath my black sandals. "I won't leave you to die."

I could always find a convenient cactus on the way and ditch them once I had my drink. They didn't know a thing about surviving in the desert; I'd get far more water out of the plant than they ever would. And I could maybe hide in its shadow until they gave up and went away.

The trouble was, I really couldn't leave them to die.

I wasn't a good enough shinobi yet.

-o-

A/N: The Obsession Wikipedia page has been began by the lovely A'isha Ishtar. She asks that any 'experts' in particular characters help her out: http://theobsession(dot)wikia(dot)com/wiki/The_Obsession_Wiki

She has also done more lovely fanart and videos:

http://hakuspreciousperson(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Teach-me-146358018

http://hakuspreciousperson(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/So-Kiss-Me-146530176

http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=RgtHr5BpfhQ


	74. A Refuge

A/N: I'm on winter break at last; but alas, that probably means I'll have _less_ time to write, since I have a billion tons of things to do. XD If I don't post again before then: My darlings, have a wonderful, wonderful Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate, and a fantastic new year. (:

-o-

Kasumi splashed right into the pool while Daisuke hurled insults at her, claiming the water was now tainted. Rolling my eyes, I knelt at the edge of the clear liquid, dipping my hands into it and drinking, then submerging my arms to my shoulders and reveling at the cool relief of my burn. Not that I burned easily—most people who grew up in the desert didn't—but everyone had their limits, and the Amegakure genin had left me sleeping in the sun.

Enjoying the water, I allotted a moment to take stock of my situation. What did I know? I was 'kidnapped.' Well, I wasn't going to be the damsel-in-distress waiting for someone to save me again. This was up to me.

Easy as pie. Nobody was paying me any attention; I could slip right away if I wanted to.

With a sigh, I jerked my arms, making a loud splash and drawing everyone's eyes to me. I had better learn something first.

"So what do you want with Gaara?" I asked brashly. "Something about the jinchuuriki? What have I got to do with it?"

A pause. I let it stretch. Finally, Onion-head said casually, "Help us if we tell you?"

"No," I assured him. "But I won't leave you stranded at the only oasis for miles either."

"With all this water, I can get us home," Kasumi protested, crossing her arms. "We don't _need_ you."

I didn't doubt it, actually—how else would they have gotten here in the first place?—but I made a show like I did. My acting skills had slid away with my lies, and once more I cursed Abura—and the competitive spirit I'd never possessed in the Academy.

Shrugging cheerfully, I stood up and walked off into the desert. "Bye then!"

Silence. Thinking it over. Then—"Kurocha's just going to put you to sleep again!" Daisuke shouted after me. I wondered if he was actually the agreed-upon spokesperson of the group or if he just yelled louder and talked more.

I pivoted, hands on hips, eyeing them from a few meters away. "Sleepy me can't show you the oases," I guaranteed him. "Unless Kurocha can also read minds. Sleeping minds."

They looked like they actually considered needing me. I mulled it over, then realized:_ Ame_. Rain Village. Kasumi had presumably spent most of her life under the rain, saturating her water-bound chakra. But if she'd used up most of that spare moisture on the journey over—well, someone back in Amegakure needed to consider more carefully who they sent to the desert. It would take her years to build that water back up.

In conclusion, one good dunk in the oasis pond wasn't going to be enough to get six genin plus hostage through two days of desert.

Guess my bluff wasn't such a bluff after all.

Took a few steps back. "Tell me," I ordered, locking my eyes on Daisuke's bright blue ones. He was the most talkative. I'd let him talk.

He crossed his arms to match Kasumi. Behind him, Kurocha and Onion-head—why didn't I know his name yet?—lounged at the edge of the pool, apparently uninterested; and Sumairu watched with silent, creepy interest. He seemed the most intelligent—it's always the quiet ones, but I'm a little biased—and he didn't disagree with Daisuke spilling the beans, so I decided I would get my information after all.

He made me nervous though. Why _wasn't_ he disagreeing? Guess he just wanted to get out of here alive.

"Our jinchuuriki's gone missing," Daisuke finally muttered. I stared at him for a moment, then sputtered, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Don't see how that's my problem," I coughed. "Or Gaara's problem. Or Suna's problem."

"What better way to get a jinchuuriki than with another?" the silver-haired genin replied sullenly.

"And you chose Gaara. Why didn't you go ask the folks in Konoha? They're always happy to help." I paused, trying to remember if I knew the jinchuuriki of Konoha. Kyuubi—the nine-tailed… fox. Fox. Oh damn. I'd seen that fox attack the Shukaku almost a year ago now. Naruto was jinchuuriki.

Well, he'd absolutely be happy to help a good cause. Was it a good cause?

"Why do you need your jinchuuriki back? Way I saw it, they only ever get mistreated by their villages." My voice was loud and strong, but inside, I cringed. I knew that—not firsthand, but maybe second.

"We think he's being hunted. We want to keep him safe."

"And you chose _Gaara_," I repeated, incredulous. "To keep someone _safe_." While honored by the faith they placed in my demon, they clearly didn't know him. At all.

"We didn't, obviously," Daisuke retorted scathingly. "Like we'd send _ourselves_ on a mission. Don't know the reason for Shukaku, don't care; we were just supposed to kidnap one of his genin friends and lure him back home to help us. If he doesn't meet us here with Hiiragi we'll drag you all the way back to Ame and make him come get you."

Gaara in Amegakure. Sure, he'd love that; waterlogged, his sand would barely move. "Gaara doesn't have friends."

"You seem close enough. He almost killed us to get you back."

"He's… learning." I eyed the blue-eyed boy intently, surreptitiously watching the reactions of the other Ame genin. This seemed dodgy. Daisuke's explanation was pretty full of holes. Asking the Shukaku for help was completely unlikely.

So was he lying?

I couldn't even tell. Like Kasumi storing up water, I'd stored up an ability to lie and read lies; and I'd used up the latter since Abura had challenged me to tell the truth. I thought the silver-haired genin was being evasive, but I didn't know if he was outright lying to me. Or even if he really was leaving stuff out, or just didn't know.

At last, Sumairu spoke up. "He told you," said the green-haired, smiling boy. "We require your help to help our own. Will you cooperate?"

I hesitated. Then I made the decision.

"Yes," I said. "I'll help."

It felt good to lie again.

-o-

They wouldn't let me go home.

I tried to convince them that the best way for me to help was to talk to Gaara in person; but I guess they were smarter than that, because Sumairu postulated that the temptation of being back in my home village would be too great and I might try to escape no matter how much I wanted to help. And Kasumi flat out said, "It's not like you're incapable of lying." I protested vehemently that telling the truth was my _nindo_; but apparently they hadn't met Naruto, because this seemed to mean very little to them.

Daisuke just told me to shut up. I sighed and, tired of trying to maneuver my way in and out of their good graces, complied.

Guess I was going to Ame.

I hate rain.

-o-

Three hours off the oasis, their canteens were running low. Didn't they know _anything_ about desert survival? I hoped Sunagakure hosted the Chūnin Exams soon; a survival test was sure to take them down. And it would serve them right.

They had at least thought to bring an extra canteen for the hostage, and mine was still three-quarters full. Kasumi dished out a little extra for her companions, but she couldn't provide much.

Sighing, I adjusted my course to take to the nearest oasis. It was going to be several more hours, but they could survive. I hoped.

When we arrived, Kasumi immediately—as before—splashed into the pool, stirring up sand from the bottom that rose in a dancing cloud of gold in the water. The other Ame-nin, desperate, crouched down to drink and received mouthfuls of sand for their trouble.

Though used to having sand everywhere and in between, I refrained from quenching my thirst from the pool. I swigged from my canteen, still half full, and decided to wait until the dust settled to fill the container up again. In the meantime, I located some helpful plants and refreshed my sunscreen/burn salve, then offered it up to the others, who were clearly unaccustomed to so much sun. _So_ would not make it through a desert survival test.

"Distance to the next oasis?" Onion-head asked me lazily as he rubbed the plant over his arms where he'd rolled up his dark grey sleeves. (A long-sleeve turtleneck, in the desert? Really?)

"Unless we detour extensively, when we leave Wind Country," I informed him. "The point of oases is that they're _not common_."

"Let's stay the night," suggested Kurocha in his cheery, yet apathetic voice.

That was actually a good plan. Shrugging, I set myself up against a slender tree. "It's going to get cold," I said, looking at the sky through the fronds and watching shadow creep across the blue. Fire exploded on the horizon as if Abura had gone out in a blaze of glory, like a dying phoenix. I didn't get to see this often; I watched, transfixed, as the sun set on the desert, fading into blue clouds as smoke that kept the cold in.

"I dunno," said Daisuke doubtfully, eyes trained on the sun-death. "That fire looks pretty hot."

"Sure," I agreed. "But it's too far away to make any difference."


	75. A Split

A/N: http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/2-Love-147164277

And that is a _perfect _introduction to the next CONTEST. Because after all, Valentine's Day is just a little over a month away. And what better way to celebrate than a **CRACK PAIRING CONTEST**. Duh.

Rules are simple. Write or draw a pairing. Must include at least one of my characters. Crack constitutes as not-canon, so I'll leave that up to your judgment. Yes, threesomes count. (Or more!!! :D XD) Just in case you were wondering. XD

Deadline is Valentine's Day. Prizes will be small – an art request (up to two people) for first, as well as I'll read and review one chapter of a requested fic if you like; and an art request of one person for second place.

ATTENTION. I must shower lovely gratitude upon the lovely Turtle Kid, who mentioned she lives in a real live desert and has consequently put up amazingly patiently (that was a lot of adverbs) with my near-constant random questions about climate, geography, what have you. Thank you, dear! I super appreciate being slightly closer to realistically accurate. :D

Sorry I couldn't post a chapter for the holidays! Hope your Christmas/New Year/etc. was fantastic. (:

-o-

I thought the Ame-nin would drop off to sleep quickly, exhausted by their trek, but I failed to consider the chill. Unbothered by the cold as one all too familiar with ice, Kasumi faded out; but her companions tossed and shivered, tortured by the frost. Chattering teeth sounded like they would grate themselves to pieces; at last, I rolled over in the cold sand and taught them how to warm themselves with chakra. Without practice, they'd most likely be running on empty in the morning, but it was preferable to being dead.

I lay awake, admiring the stars that unfurled across the deep sky in patterns of diamonds. I saw these more frequently than the sunsets, since the sentinel cliffs of Suna blocked views of the horizon, not the sky; but rarely did I have time to simply relax and enjoy them. There was always a mission I needed to be resting up for—or a mission I was currently on.

Under the peace of the star-studded sky, I found myself almost afraid to dream. I didn't want nightmares to disturb this tranquility; I didn't want to wake shaking after this calm.

I felt a twinge of guilt at having finally defied Abura, but I couldn't let it wash away the relief at finally having myself back. It would take me years, probably, to find my lies and lie detector up to par again; but that didn't even matter. It was as if I could breathe again.

Briefly, I wondered if I was somehow sick, addicted to lying like a drug. Before I could worry further, I sank into sleep.

-o-

I woke without dreaming and almost cried with relief. Hints of nightmares swam around the corners of my mind; but I remembered nothing, had not woken in terror, and that counted well enough for having slept in silence.

Sumairu looked like he had been awake for hours, watching the sunrise, while the others appeared to be groggily forcing themselves out of slumber. Onion-head came alert more quickly than Daisuke and Kasumi; and I saw him look around anxiously at Hiiragi's notable absence.

I secretly hoped she was alive.

Kasumi seemed fine, but the others were weak and trembly with lack of chakra. As they roused themselves, I rolled over onto my stomach and watched a small scorpion scuttle past my nose on some unknown quest. Grains of sand bobbed around the tapered tips of its legs; I wondered idly where it was going.

Some faint breath or shift of sand redirected it so that it headed straight for me. Without hesitation, I reached for my kunai pouch. Looping a finger through the ring at the end of one of the weapons, I pulled it free, then closed my other fingers around the hilt and plunged the blade through the scorpion's middle.

It convulsed and slid sideways in the sand. I sat up, leaving my kunai and the corpse where it lay, and turned around to see the present and awake Ame-nin watching me. Kasumi looked slightly ill.

"You should see them when they're carrying their young," I said. "They're even more disgusting. Isn't anybody going to wake Rai—Kurocha?"

Without waiting for an answer, I crawled over to the still-slumbering genin and shook him. His form was stiff; his head lolled. I touched his face; it was cold and hard. Sitting back on my knees, I stared at his prone figure and twisted to look at the others.

"He won't wake up," I said.

"No," said Onion-head suddenly, startling me out of the fugue settling over my vision. _Another one dead, another corpse, more names to add to the list. At least I learned his name. _Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't: You can't forget something you never knew.

"He does this sometimes," Kurocha's teammate went on. "Just his way of conserving chakra. He's asleep."

"Asleep." I repeated the word with a heavy tongue, unable to believe it. He didn't feel asleep.

Onion-head shrugged. "Okay," I said. "What the hell is your name?"

An expression of shock crossed his face at the sudden change of subject; a tiny smirk followed. "You been calling me something like 'Raincoat-child.'"

"Onion-head," I admitted in a mutter. Kasumi let out a peal of laughter; Daisuke snickered. Even Sumairu let out a chuckle.

The pale-haired genin extended a hand. "Sessen," he greeted as I accepted the handshake.

"Kori," I responded airily, figuring if they'd been hanging around while Isane was nearby, that's probably what they'd heard me called. Presuming I hadn't introduced myself previously, which I sure couldn't remember. He gave me a look that I couldn't possibly interpret and shook my hand cheerfully, then dropped it like it was that scorpion I'd just killed.

"Great," I said. "What are we going to do about him?" I nodded to the slumbering genin and his red raincoat. He must be sticky and boiling in that thing; I could just imagine the plastic clinging uncomfortably to my skin and grimaced. Well, sticky and boiling when he was awake… alive. "If he really is just sleeping…"

"He is," Sessen assured me, and I figured he'd known Kurocha way longer than I had, so I shrugged and accepted it.

"Then how do we wake him up?"

"Why don't we stay here?" Kasumi volunteered. "During the day, I mean. Wouldn't it make more sense to stay in the shade while it's sunny and walk through the cold to warm ourselves up?"

I turned my gaze to her and wondered how this squad—pair of squads, really—had survived the freezing cold on their way in. I would ask in a minute; but first, I explained, "It's harder to exert your chakra when you're moving. And it's too cold to warm up just by walking. Unless you want to run the rest of the way out of the desert, we'll travel by day." I almost added that we were nearly to the border, but decided I would let them think we still had a ways to go. Less likely they'd knock me over the head and carry me because my knowledge was no longer necessary, and I wanted to be able to ditch them as soon as we left the desert. "How did you live through the nights on your way to Suna?"

"Kasumi," the silver-haired Daisuke said grudgingly. That girl had practically carried her two teams through the desert, hadn't she? "She could draw a little of the cold away as long as there was enough wet stuff to make it ice. Wouldn't have made it without her."

"Thanks, old man."

"Hey, I give you a compliment and all you do is insult me?"

I inched away as they started fighting again, returning my attention to Sessen and Kurocha. Onion-head and Raincoat-child just fit them so much better; I should never have confused things with finding out their names. Oh well. "So. Kurocha."

"I'll stay here." My eyebrows raised in surprise at Sessen's offer. "Wait for Kurocha to wake up—and for Hiiragi."

_If she's coming_. I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

"Alright," I agreed. One less person—make that two less people—to have to escape from. That would make it easier to slip into the shadows at the border.

A sudden chill ran through me; I thought for a moment Kasumi was playing with a jutsu, then realized that Gaara had just occurred to me.

What if he really was coming? What if he'd left Hiiragi alive and even now followed her through the sands? They would catch up to Sessen and Kurocha, and eventually to Kasumi, Daisuke, and Sumairu; if I abandoned the Ame-nin at the border, Gaara would show up and I would be gone.

After all that effort, would his wasted time bring the demon out?

I hoped not. But I'd spent all this travel time keeping these genin alive, and if he killed them, he wouldn't be the only one with wasted effort—and spilled blood—on his hands.

How had I ended up the leader here? How had I ended up the one making all the decisions?

I stood up abruptly, looking pointedly at everyone around me. "Fill your canteens," I ordered, sighing internally. I'd always figured on being the spy and assassin, not the boss in plain sight. "We're getting out of here."

-o-

A/N: What is this? No canon characters at all? It's like I'm just doing my own thing here.

I promise Gaara next chapter. You can throw things at me if I fail to deliver.


	76. A Downpour

A/N: HAPPY GAARA'S BIRTHDAY! Long chapter to celebrate.

Remember, **Crack Pairing Contest, entries due Feb. 14th. **See previous chapter for details. (:

-o-

"This Gaara." I glanced sideways at Sumairu as he drew even with me and began to speak. "What is he like?"

In a way, I preferred him beside me instead of behind. I didn't like having my enemy nin at my back, but they were apparently convinced that I could only lead them by being in front.

"Well," I began carefully. "He's kind, and determined, and won't give up on his dreams."

"Jinchuuriki are not kind."

"Clearly you haven't been to Konoha," I replied, because of course I had been describing Uzumaki Naruto. Gaara didn't sleep long enough to have dreams. Unless the Shukaku gave him nightmares about murder, but I hoped he'd give up on those.

"Konoha's jinchuuriki is kind?"

"That's one way to put it."

"And so is Suna's?"

"What? Oh, yeah."

"Then perhaps he would have helped us without the taking of hostages."

"There's only one hostage," I said cheerfully, glancing surreptitiously at the green-haired Ame-nin again. The corners of his lips curled up in an almost-smirk; he wasn't buying a word. Guess he remembered Gaara's desire to kill them all while we were trapped in the cliff.

I'd lost my touch.

"What's your jinchuuriki like?" I tried, but received no answer thanks to Daisuke's loud interruption of, "There's gonna be more water soon, right?"

I rolled my eyes without looking back. "Next water source is past the border, so I hope you haven't emptied your canteen yet."

I could almost hear the scowl in his voice as he grumbled, "It's Kasumi."

Pausing, I turned around. Kasumi had an arm slung around Daisuke's shoulders; her eyes were only half open; and she was badly sunburned, despite the bits of plant I'd given to all her squad, as well as the other one.

Sighing, I took a swig from my canteen and tossed it to Daisuke. I could go longer without water, though not forever; but the border wasn't too far. And while I was loathe to give away desert secrets that might encourage the Ame-nin to return, I could always convince desert flora to relinquish its life's blood to save us, should the need arise. After all this work, I was keeping these children alive.

"You won't be able to come back to the desert for a long time," I told Kasumi, and walked on.

-o-

Dry grass grew up out of the sand, poking bare toes. I let my shoulders sag, then straightened before someone noticed—though I doubt I escaped Sumairu's attention. If we'd reached the border, that meant it was time for more arguments, more decisions, more leading. Sigh.

A few meters further on, the ground solidified into dirt and a stream burbled forth from the earth. Kasumi lurched away from her teammate, nearly pulling him over in the process, and splashed into the trickle, gulping almost as much dirt as water. She paused a moment, spitting, making a face of disgust, and then resumed drinking at a more dignified pace.

"Alright," I said, "you know how to get back to Amegakure now. I'll wait here."

"I don't think so!" That was Daisuke, arms crossed, scowling. "We're not stupid."

"What?" I tried to look innocent. "I never implied that you were."

"Don't start," Kasumi cut in, raising her face from its immersion in the stream. "You're not gonna talk your way out like that, we're not leaving you here alone."

"You guys are seriously going to test the limits of Gaara's patience," I insisted. "The longer he has to wait, the less Hiiragi's chances of survival."

"We're going allllll the way to Ame," emphasized the blonde. "He can meet us there."

"I thought that you said he was kind," put in Sumairu slyly. I glared at him.

"But he's also very impatient."

"Impatient enough to kill? I cannot find him particularly kind then."

"Shut up," I snapped, and sat down mulishly on a rock. "Kurocha's gone, you can't just knock me out and take me off anymore."

"There's still more of us than you," Daisuke pointed out.

Surreptitiously, I searched for some adequately-sized shadows to hide myself in. I could see the industrialized towers of Amegakure and the black clouds of its namesake in the distance, but the interim expanse was still flat land.

Kasumi rose, brushing dust off her knees. Daisuke stepped forward and wrapped his hand around my upper arm, pulling me back to my feet.

"All the way to the storm," said Sumairu, and I was dragged off to Amegakure. They didn't need a leader anymore.

---

It started to rain long before we reached the city, cold droplets waltzing gleefully on our heads, reveling in my torment. The others looked pleased to be back beneath the constant water falling from the sky—Kasumi positively blissful—but I still hated the stuff. I was shortly soggy and lethargic, and I couldn't possibly imagine Gaara getting along in this weather.

"You know, Gaara's not going to be much help in the rain," I pointed out, only slightly desperately.

"Then it is a good thing the Rokubi vanished from Amegakure and we will not be staying long," Sumairu said pleasantly.

"Then what's the point of even going?" I demanded, but nobody saw fit to tell me.

I didn't know much about Rain Village besides the rain, but I did know that security was tight: They didn't like people getting in or out without them knowing about it. I figured alone I could slip in easy—well, not easy, maybe with some challenge—but in a group, even in a group _from_ Ame, it was going to be hours. How was Gaara going to get in without killing a crowd of people?

Turns out, I was to wait outside, in the rain, Kasumi and Daisuke on either side of me while Sumairu slid in to check with his squad's sensei. I was infinitely curious about this missing sensei, but denied the chance to find anything out. No, instead I had to sit in a constant cascade of polluted water and wait for my murderous obsession to come find us.

Why me?

"Does it ever stop raining here?" I asked, leaning my head over the back of the bench. Kasumi glanced over at me, reluctantly turning her face from the sky.

"Maybe once a year… not really. Sometimes it slackens to a drizzle."

"How can you _stand _it?"

"How can you stand living in the desert? Does it _ever_ rain _there?_"

"Yeah. Probably more often than it stops raining here." I was finding it a tad difficult to breathe. Not a lot, since I was pretty used to Konoha, but this place was even more humid. "What's it like in winter?"

"Cold rain," she said happily.

"Is _everybody_ as pleased about that as you?"

"No," said Daisuke boredly. "That sleet stuff can get nasty." He shrugged. "We're used to it though."

"Yeah." I thought the ground was twitching beneath my feet; I sat up to frown down at it, watching the mud shiver. Just the ripples from the raindrops.

No wait. Had Gaara caught up?

Casually, I leaned back again, splashing my feet idly in the mud and splattering the black cloth of my pants with chocolate paint. "And the mud. How do you stand all the mud?"

"It's a heck of a lot easier to walk in than that stupid sand."

I scanned the horizon and realized the ripples couldn't possibly have been Gaara trying to move sand-turned-mud. There was no place to hide; I would be able to see him if he were nearby.

Hide. Could I hide now? The walls of Amegakure were just behind, casting a shadow despite the lack of sun.

I wondered if the sun ever did come out; I wondered if they ever had rainbows here. For an instant, I almost asked, but decided not to draw their attention back to me. They were once again focused on the rain.

A moment's more hesitation, then I threw myself over the back of the bench.

Startled, Daisuke grabbed for the back of my shirt and missed; I landed in the mud with a splash, spraying the two genin as they twisted to go after me. Lunging forward, I pressed myself against the damp metal-and-stone wall and bled chakra into the dark.

"Where did she go?"

"I dunno, Kai-sensei's going to kill us."

"Kai nothing, _Sumairu's_ going to kill us for dropping our guard."

"Idiot!"

"This isn't my fault!"

I breathed easily, quietly. They couldn't see me. That was one touch I hadn't lost then.

Slowly, careful not to disturb the mud gathering around my feet and staining the hems of my pants—I would shortly be wearing more brown than black—I scooted along the wall. The puddles undulated traitorously, but I hoped Daisuke and Kasumi would take their movements for the dance of the rain.

The genin hopped off the bench and looped around, one on either side. I moved a little faster, figuring they were going to start walking along the wall with their hands outstretched in a minute. I couldn't risk splashes and footprints in the glop revealing me; it was already pulling my feet down and squelching softly with each step. Damn mud! I was never coming back to Ame.

I gained a little bit of distance while Daisuke and Kasumi argued out a plan, then sped up to a quick walk instead of a frantic scoot. I kept glancing back over my shoulder; Kasumi knelt in the mud, fingers immersed and dark slush turning to ice at her touch. The path of pale cold muck slithered toward me, while Daisuke faced the other direction, curling mire around his fingertips with his chakra and searching for my presence. The wall curved, carrying me out of sight range, but I knew I couldn't outrun their jutsus forever.

Even though I couldn't see them anymore, I continued to look back, just waiting for the ice trail to catch up. Because of this, I didn't realize there was someone in front of me until I crashed smack dab into him.

"What—Gaara!" At the last second, I dropped my voice to a high-pitched whisper, rather than a shout. "You _are_ here. What—" Panic struck me in the chest. "Where's Hiiragi? And the rest of her squad?"

He regarded me tranquilly with his pale green eyes. "You are covered in mud," he remarked. I glanced down, noticing that my jutsu had shattered when I collided with the redhead.

"Yeah," I agreed. "It… kind of sucks." I surveyed him warily. "Are you… alright, in the rain?"

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. His skin looked darker than usual, and the habitual cracks in his gourd had smoothed over. "The sand does not obey."

"No, it—" I suddenly remembered my earlier question. "Did you kill Hiiragi?"

"No."

"Then where is she?" I slid around Gaara and hesitantly plucked at his sleeve, trying to convince him to move again before Kasumi found us.

"I don't know." This seemed to frustrate him slightly; nervously, I walked on, looking to make sure he would follow. After watching me for a moment, he started moving clumsily through the mud along Amegakure's walls.

"She did say she was good at hiding things," I muttered, turning to search the distant land. "But that probably means she knows where we are. And we're moving blind."


	77. A Deluge

A/N: A couple new videos (one old Christmas one I forgot to link to): www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=w2C3fp_wVNc and www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=W9ZUNspKe3I

And a lovely songfic! http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5686965/1/Patience#

And, AT LAST, you may truly know the appearances of Raincoat-child and Onion-head!!!!

apollo4(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/T-O-Team-Hiiragi-151645957

Although Onion-head dresses slightly differently in this story. But he pulls off the fishnet very well. XD

-o-

Well, if Hiiragi had just disappeared herself and her team right in front of Gaara, they were all probably hanging right around here. Could I try what Kasumi and Daisuke tried? See through the shadows to find them?

I could. Or I could just get us out of here. I didn't know that I wanted to lose sight of the real world with only Gaara at my back. I trusted him not to kill me, but I didn't trust him not to lose interest.

"We should head back to the desert," I suggested, but Gaara's gaze was trained on a spot just over my shoulder.

I turned, in time to see Hiiragi finish fading back into existence. "We're going to Ame," she said bluntly, red-hazel eyes hard behind her red-rimmed glasses.

"Been to Ame," I said. "Didn't like it much." Shadows gathered under my hands, which hung at my sides, while I prepared the chakra for a genjutsu. "I'm ready for good ol' sun and sand again."

Raindrops slid along silver as senbon dropped from thin air into Hiiragi's hands. "What, so you can take Amegakure secrets back home?"

"Don't be ridiculous." I slipped a shuriken from its holster and drew the chakra upwards as I raised the weapon to aim. "And anyway, you can't make us. Not two against one with Gaara on my side."

"Gaara can't hardly move his sand, and can't hardly fight. That makes it three against one with a sleeper on _my _side."

At these words, her teammates threw themselves from their hiding place against the wall, Sessen's metal pole extending as he hurtled toward me. I ducked to the side, spattering mud across my face as I whipped shuriken and genjutsu both at Hiiragi. I hardly paused to see if it caught, immediately spinning to see Gaara's sand move like sludge and barely manage to block Sessen's attack. The redhead looked startled to see the large metal stick so close to his head, and almost didn't notice Kurocha's approach in time to stop the raincoat-child's weights from taking out his knees.

Three senbon thudded into the muscle around my left shoulder blade. I hissed, swearing mentally. Well, that genjutsu had lasted about three seconds.

"Don't make Gaara sleep!" I yelled as I pivoted to face Hiiragi again, forced to draw kunai with my unpracticed right hand. Dang, I should be ambidextrous. I was going to have to work on that.

I suddenly wanted my sword in my hands, wooden or not, and wondered if that was what Nagi-sensei meant by 'muscle memory.'

The kunai twisted in my grip, blocking another small deluge of senbon; but I fumbled it, unused to spinning objects with my off hand, and dropped the blade in the mud. I hardly had time to draw another before Hiiragi was up close, senbon between her fingers and slashing at my face.

I slipped backwards, landing in the mire, and kicked up at my attacker. She skipped sideways; I rolled over and to my feet, pivoting to keep my eyes on Hiiragi but glimpsing Gaara's fight. His sand armor dripped down his face, giving him the unnerving appearance of melting, and a bruise bloomed on his cheek. Hiiragi's renewed attack forced my attention away, but I thought I heard the crack of metal on bone.

With dry sand and sky, two against Gaara was cake. Under the constant downpour, with sand that moved like molasses, he couldn't win.

Should I have more faith in him? Perhaps, but I wasn't going to be unreasonable. Assuming he could handle it might only get him hurt.

I had to neutralize Hiiragi. Unfortunately, she was unhindered by the mud, and refused to cease besieging me with senbon long enough for me to gather a genjutsu again.

Her seemingly unlimited supply of senbon started to remind me painfully of Eiri until I saw her swoop down and pluck fallen needles from the mire, flicking them clean with graceful ease. In comparison, I was an ox; I stepped on my dropped kunai, slicing open the sole of my sandal, and stumbled back once more.

Dropping to my knee, I scooped up a handful of thin, watery mud and flung it into Hiiragi's face.

Distracted, she threw up a hand to shield her eyes, blinding herself long enough for black chakra to coalesce in my palms.

A quick seal and I had her.

Spinning and nearly falling again, I tried not to look at the illusion coiling around Hiiragi's thoughts. It was dark and chained, and the connection to my mind made me vaguely sick if I paid too much attention. I couldn't let go completely, or she would be free, but I needed enough of my wits to help Gaara.

Too late. Shuriken spun from my fingertips; but Kurocha's hands formed the last of the signs and his eyes went blank as Gaara slumped to his knees in the rain.

Asleep.

-o-

Nonononono.

I took a few running steps forward toward the fallen redhead, but I could sense the monstrous chakra stirring inside him. Kurocha slumped back against the wall in relief, red raincoat speckled brown; Sessen planted his pole in the mud and leaned on it.

"Your friend's tough," he said, grinning up at me through his labored breathing. Even incapacitated by rain."

"Idiot!" I cried, scrubbing water out of my eyes and smearing mud over my cheekbone. "I told you not to make him sleep!"

Last time I had seen this happen, Gaara had been half demon and full of rage, content to be one with Shukaku. But I felt certain he would not give in so easily now; would the Ichibi then consume him, form around his body and leave no sleeping child to wake?

Lurching forward, I clasped my hands around Gaara's shoulders, hearing Kurocha behind me ask, "What'd she do to Hiiragi?" I ignored him, whispering, "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" as I shook the redhead violently.

"Wake him up!" I yelled at the red-coated genin without turning my head.

A moment later, the genjutsu around Hiiragi released with a snap, dropping her gasping to her knees as an arm of sludgy sand swung out of nowhere and slammed into me. I sunk slightly into the soft morass before flying backwards, colliding with Amegakure's wall and seeing stars.

"Idiots," I whispered, around the pain in my head, and tried not to pass out.

Before I could struggle to my feet, Hiiragi had a knee on my shoulder and senbon centimeters from my eyes. I froze, flicked my gaze over her shoulder to see trailing sand sluggishly forming into claws, and said, "_Look_ at him! Don't be stupid. Get off me and look."

Suspiciously, she half turned her head. "Jinchuuriki," she said.

"Duh," I replied. "That's why you wanted him. Should have asked Konoha."

-o-

I wanted to stop it, but I had no choice.

Transfixed, Hiiragi continued to hold me down, watching Gaara transform. Had I been able to move, I still would have been helpless; the sand moved slowly, but the metamorphosis progressed inexorably, the inevitably downfall of human to demon. Wet grit crept over Gaara's face, peaceful in sleep and unaware of his fate; it closed over his head, drowning him in the monster trapped inside.

What could I do? Not sit by and watch.

While Hiiragi was distracted, I pitched my free left arm upwards, wincing as the movement tore at the wound in my back. Though her senbon still threatened my eyes, I swept my hand into her limp fist, flinging the shining needles into the mud. She jerked, ripping her attention away from the Ichibi's emergence.

The monstrous form swelled as the sand rippled faster, controlled now by the demonic chakra that spoke with far more force than a measly human's. Sand dried and hardened only to be soaked again by the constant rain; it slithered and dripped, warping the blue veins across Shukaku's body.

Hiiragi backed against the wall, all thought of our battle forgotten. I ignored her, searching desperately for any plan of attack, but could think of none.

Kasumi, Daisuke, and Sumairu rushed around the curve of the fortifications, determination furrowing their brows, and skidded to a halt at the sight of the demon. Just what I needed: more people to save from certain death at the hands of a monster. If only Abura and Isane would show up and complete the crowd.

If only Uzumaki Naruto would show up and save us all.


	78. A Pocket

A/N: Once again: I am a failure. OTL

I keep promising you guys I'm back, but I'm not. Life is doing its best to kill me. I'm so slow. And everybody who puts up with it: You're what keeps me coming back. If I didn't know you were here, waiting, I wouldn't even bother with the next chapter. I know it's so hard, to remember what happened in the previous chapters after a month, but if you put up with it: I love you. You are amazing. Thank you.

My promise is that I WILL NEVER QUIT. I don't care how long a delay there is, I will not stop writing these until they're finished, even if they take fifty years. So. Stick with me and we'll go places. Or Takara will. Probably.

(:

Oh, and I'm pretty sure the Valentine's Day contest only had one entry: Michi-tan. Am I right? If you entered and you are not Michi-tan, please be sure to inform me right this instant. :D If not, automatic winner, I will announce for certain next chapter… whenever that is. Dx

P.S. Sil, I heart you!

-o-

Damn it, I was just as much a shinobi as Naruto, and I had known Gaara far longer. I wasn't going to let him show me up—especially since he wasn't here. I sure wasn't helpless—and I didn't need him to save us. Definitely wasn't going to take the easy way out.

The last time the Shukaku had fallen, it had been because Gaara had woken up—thanks to Naruto's painful efforts. I couldn't see Gaara now: He was trapped inside the beast's body, rather than protruding from its head.

I guess that meant I had to get inside.

Shukaku was laughing, a wild, raucous sound that worried at the edges of my mind and battered at my ears as I walked toward the demon. Heedless of my feet squelching in the mud, of muck smeared across my face, of Hiiragi and her team and their partner squad staring at the monster, I worked out a vague and unlikely plan.

It occurred to me, in a tiny back corner of my brain, that the Ichibi towered over the city. The Amegakure shinobi would be here any minute, and I wanted to be gone by then.

Unfortunately, I couldn't see this battle ending in mere seconds.

Senbon hurtled through the air, tiny silver darts making patterns on the Shukaku's claw. The creature didn't even notice. But if the attacks kept up, the demon _would _notice—would notice the tickling in its sandy flesh—and it would not hesitate to slaughter Hiiragi and company in an instant.

I picked up the pace.

Darting forward, I wondered if I'd ever done anything more stupid than running full-tilt toward a demon tall as a city.

Shouts and the roars of jutsu burst above me, the Amegakure-nin coming to their village's defense. The Shukaku would take them down without hesitation, and tear into the walls next.

I had to wake Gaara up.

Fire bloomed beneath the demon's enormous foot, twining through its talons and weaving itself around the ropes of chakra that wound up one gigantic leg. Nausea hit me like a brick. Abura and Isane were here at last, and that meant two more people I had to protect. Already as I raced toward the monster, I heard cries of anger and pain as jōnin fell to the Ichibi's might.

I shoved chakra into my feet, preparing to launch myself toward the Shukaku's bulk. Something hard and wire-thin coiled around my ankle, bringing me down into the mud once again. Growling irritably, I twisted to see Isane standing over me, rain collecting on her cheeks like tears. Abura knelt behind her, eyes glazed over with the effort of maintaining fire in the rain.

"Took you guys long enough to find me," I said, rolling to my feet and futilely sweeping a glob of mud off black cloth.

"Figured you just went off to stalk your demon, 'til you didn't show up to training." Abura's voice was strained and brimming with concentration. "Cheh, didn't think you'd be stupid enough to let yourself get _kidnapped_."

"Yeah, well, some days." I turned away, returning attention to the monster towering over us. If we stood here long, we'd be flattened; fire may not have harmed it—I knew that from watching Uchiha try to take it out—but a torch lit under anyone's foot is at least enough to tickle. The Shukaku had shifted its focus downward, and danced lumberingly away from the flames.

I speculated, without much seriousness, that Abura could drive it back to the desert like that. But he didn't have the chakra—or the time.

A globule of soggy sand dripped from the monster like melting wax and splattered into my hair. Wincing, I wiped inanely at it.

"Kori-chan, let's move backwards, 'kay?"

"Sorry, Isane-chan, but I actually know what to do."

It occurred to me, as I forced chakra through my soles and leapt upward, that she and Abura hadn't heard that I'd broken my promise not to lie.

I decided I wouldn't tell them.

My momentum carried me through several hops, dodging wild swings of the Shukaku's arms. I sank slightly into its wet-sand flesh as I jumped, which nearly lost me my head when I couldn't move fast enough.

A glance downward—while the demon was busy dislodging its talons from the Amegakure wall—showed Abura and Isane determinedly staying in place, keeping their holds on their jutsu that infuriated the beast. "Move, idiots!" I yelled down, doubting they could hear me over the waltz of the rain and the shouts of the Ame-nin. Where was Chie-sensei, t o knock some sense into them and drag them backwards from the fight?

"A battle on three fronts splits its attention," whispered a smug voice in my ear; and _there_ was Chie-sensei, quoting lessons at me that I should have known. "Or else you'd be dead." I twisted to look at her, sliding precariously in muck, and she offered me a carved-wood katana like the one I had left behind.

"Get inside, Takara. Wake him up." Her brown eyes flashed. "Now."

"Yes, Sensei." I saluted, but did not take the katana. "But I don't need that in there."

"Nagi impressed upon me that you either take it or I smack you with it." Her lips curled up in a wry smile.

"Alright." I snatched the wooden weapon away from her and spun, dragging crepuscular chakra in a spiral around me as I went. "Thanks, Sensei!"

I bled into darkness, growing intangible as a ghost, as a shadow; and before I flung myself into the demon's heart, I shouted, "Now get down there and keep Abura and Isane alive!"

"I don't take orders from you, Takara!" came the reply, and my world went black.

-o-

For a moment I was suffocating, trapped in saturated silence and swathed in a blanket that clung to my skin. I fought my way free, lashing out with my katana. Now that I had it in my hands, I knew that it was the same one I had dropped back in Suna, tracked down by Nagi-sensei and returned to me. It moved sluggishly, burdened by the weight of wet sand, but I fell into an open cavity of darkness. I couldn't see, but that was because there was nothing _to _see, only a tranquil emptiness.

I thought I could drift to sleep here, cradled by sand and silence, but that wouldn't save us at all. Would the Shukaku tear into its own chest to rip me out, or would it simply trap me inside until I starved to death? Did it even know I was here?

Wood katana grasped tightly in my left hand, hanging at my side, I reached out my unhindered fingers, searching for something besides the walls of this cocoon. They met the solid, unyielding surface of Gaara's shoulder, the sodden white cloth of his sash. Unable to resist his quiescence, I let my hand drift upward—and dropped it back to his shoulder as my fingers brushed his cheek.

Carefully, I shook him. He flopped like a rag doll in my grip. I had no cold water to throw in his face without opening a hole to the downpour outside, and I had no desire to slap him awake.

"Gaara-sama." My voice bounced eerily through the small dark space; it seemed loud enough to me to wake the dead a thousand kilometers away, but the shinobi in front of me slumbered on. I wondered if he dreamed; I wondered what he dreamed of.

The pocket quaked violently, tossing me sideways into the soft barriers. I struggled to stand, but found that the walls were drawing me in, slowly, inexorably. "Gaara-sama!" I said again, louder; and then, as lethargically-moving muck crept across my face, I panicked. With all my fear of suffocation thrown into the word, I shouted Gaara's name before the slime slid into my mouth and nose.

With shadow-strengthened vision, I saw his eyes snap open. Sand spasmed around me, as if startled into wakefulness like its master had been. I choked, battling the urge to vomit as soft, wet grains trickled down my throat.

Abruptly, they drew back, flinging themselves free of my airway. Coughing violently, I watched as the waterlogged sand slammed upward into the roof of the dark cavity. I was caught up in a whirlwind of water and shadow and mire, unable to shake the feeling of being buried in a deluge of worms rather than wet sand; and instead of darkness, all I could see was rushing movement and the rain.


	79. A Kiss

A/N: Michi-tan was indeed the only contestant, so she wins with her amazing http://michi-tan(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Abu-Ona-149798635 :D Thanks!

And this is really belatedly posted, but there was a Valentine's Day AMV by A'isha Ishtar, too: http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=-OpH57sP_Rw

On a random note, Sunday is my half-birthday! Also Pi(e) Day, White Day, and the release date for Pokémon Heart Gold and Soul Silver.

Oh yeah, I just thought of this. I wonder if you guys could help me. See, I've entered this contest. And it would be totally completely amazingly wonderful of you if you could help me win. All you have to do is click these links, then click "view and vote" and "vote for this entry." You don't have to sign up or anything to vote, and you can vote something like every six hours. The contest only has six days left, and your help would be greatly appreciated.

http://www(dot)brickfish(dot)?qsi=38742052

http://www(dot)brickfish(dot)?qsi=38742126

**THANK YOU FOR BEING AMAZING.**

-o-

The shell fell sluggishly, burdened by water, as if collapsing in slow motion. Heavy globs battered my body; I closed my eyes and clenched my lips shut just to keep from going blind and choking to death all at once. It was a struggle to retain my hold on my katana under the deluge, but I clung to the hilt as if the solid, smooth wood was the only thing real.

Something tickled against my skin, then tightened around my waist and arms. I expected the gut-wrenching rank that often followed when coiled in Gaara's sand, but my stomach remained firmly in place.

Of a sudden, rain tapdanced over me instead of falling sand. Hurriedly, I wiped a hand across my face; it came away coated in oozing muck, but I could open my eyes again.

When I did, I saw Isane's wavering chakra ropes looped about me instead of Gaara's sand. I resisted disappointment; how could he have caught me when he was trapped in the cascade himself?

The chakra flickered and died, dropping me the last few feet into a sea of mud and sodden desert. Immediately, I flipped over and busied myself digging through the mess for Gaara.

My search was interrupted when six Amegakure jōnin and an ANBU black op fanned into a circle around me. I froze.

Chie-sensei slid out of nowhere and insinuated herself between them and me. How she managed to give the air of standing in front of them _all_, I have no idea. But I appreciated it.

"My student was kidnapped by six of your genin," Chie-sensei said pleasantly, arms loosely at her sides in case she needed to defend. "She is not at fault here."

"They acted completely on their own," a jōnin, all dark hair and green eyes and sharp features, replied smoothly. Beyond the circle, I saw Kasumi's eyes go wide with shock and Daisuke turn furious. They huddled together with Sumairu and their partner squad, some bleeding but all miraculously alive.

Three of the jōnin melted into the rain; one reappeared to tend the wounded genin, but the other were gone completely.

Well, my 'honor-guard' was down to three jōnin and an ANBU. That was something of a relief. Wary of their eyes on me, I returned to my search for Gaara.

"What is she doing?" a redheaded jōnin inquired in a low voice.

"Searching for her squadmate, who followed to find her after her disappearance."

My head snapped up at Chie-sensei's lie. Squadmate? He wasn't.

But he came on enough of our missions. So why not.

The Ame-nin wanted to know who was going to clean up the mess. Chie-sensei once again shunted responsibility away from Suna. Those from Amegakure lied through their teeth about their genin's actions; a deaf civilian would have known it was a diplomatic falsehood, but we had no proof, and no right to accuse.

I hoped the two genin squads wouldn't be punished too harshly for their failures; and while I hoped, the Ame-nin dispersed.

Chie-sensei came to kneel beside me, holding hands that glowed with chakra over the surface of the waterlogged desert. I guessed she was searching for Gaara's life force, which I prayed she would find. "Hurry up, Takara-chan," she whispered. "They left one behind to make sure we leave their land, and I don't want to give them an excuse to attack."

"What kind of excuse?" I asked suspiciously.

"They're still looking for the jinchuuriki. And when they see him, they'll blame him. And take him."

I stopped cold just as my frantic fingers found something not mud and muck. Carefully, I cleared waterlogged sand away, searching until I found Gaara's face and made sure he could breathe—without digging him up. "So what?"

"He's going to be Eiri." The chakra hovering around her hands shone a brighter blue, and the form beneath my touch rippled. I jerked back.

"No."

"He's your squadmate."

"_Not anymore_."

She sat back on her heels and caught my gaze, though I didn't want to let her. "Liar."

"Always," I whispered, dropping my eyes. "Why can't he be someone else?"

"Because who else is there?"

-o-

When I thought about it later, I could think of half a dozen others. The body could have been Tsuta or Koma or Onaji or Hitotsu; the watching Ame-nin wouldn't have known the difference. They only knew the redhead with the dark-ringed eyes, and any other sleeping form would have escaped.

But I was too wrapped up in the idea of seeing Eiri's corpse again to protest. And I didn't know what made Chie-sensei want to once more carry a child's broken body back to the desert, but she made the transformation.

At least Gaara wasn't dead.

But I didn't know when he would wake up.

-o-

"Tell us, Takara-chan, how you woke him up."

Chie-sensei's voice broke me from my reverie of determinedly not looking at Gaara's prone form. The transformation jutsu had rippled and faded twenty minutes ago, when Chie-sensei had stopped sensing the presence of Ame-nin, but Gaara still wouldn't wake. Isane and Abura walked alongside, and seemed just as happy that the jinchuuriki was unconscious. I supposed I should be happy Chie-sensei was still willing to carry him, because I couldn't have done it.

"Did you kiss him?"

"No!" The word exploded from my lips, hot and guilty and perfectly honest. My cheeks flamed; but at least Abura would believe me, still thinking I followed his challenge. And the outburst was so full of emotion, he couldn't possibly think I was lying.

"_She's lying," Eiri announced, probably just to look smart._

_Abura replied, "Cheh, no she's not. Chie-sensei said she lies smoothly; listen to her stutter."_

The memory sprang to mind without warning, drawing wellsprings of tears to my eyes. Abura noticed them, somehow distinguished them from the rain, and said smugly, "Cheh, disappointed you didn't think of it yourself, Takara-chan?"

When I scoffed, the sound was so like his own _cheh_ that I might have been throwing it back in his face. "You're really reaching, Abura-kun, if you're standing in the pouring rain and think water in my eyes is tears. Jealous?"

"Cheh."

"That means yes."

"_Cheh_, in what _universe—"_

"Takara-chan," Chie-sensei interrupted; and I knew what was coming, as if I were twelve again and being forced to back up my lies. She knew, she _knew_, and she was going to bring me back to my old lying self. "I'm very curious."

"I—hit him with my katana." I waved the wooden blade limply.

"Cheh!" I thought Abura was going to choke on his scorn. "You wouldn't hit _him_."

"But I'll hit _you_," I threatened.

"You promised not to lie."

"Nobody's perfect," I snapped.

"Tell the truth, Takara-chan," Chie-sensei said severely, an order she was telling me to disobey with her eyes and her tone and her thoughts, as if I could hear them. What she really said was: _Prove you're good enough._

I should have just said I'd kissed him. Maybe they'd think he'd gone mellow; maybe they'd trust him. It wouldn't get me all that more teased than _I shouted his name_, a statement equivalent to _My voice swept him out of his dreams, _which came right out of a romance novel. I almost said it anyway, because it was better than the lie I was being forced into, the one I absolutely did not want to say. She was going to make me, though. One day I would grow up and be alone and there'd be no one to back me up and I would have to say things I didn't want to say. Things I didn't want on my conscious. On my tongue.

I hung my head in apparent embarrassment, in truth hiding uncertainty and frustration and an overwhelming desire to have everything simple again. "I lied," I said guiltily, reflecting on how Eiri understood the simple things, and had they stopped being simple when he left? "I did. I kissed him awake."

-o-

A/N: WHO WAS FOOLED BY THE CHAPTER TITLE? 8D


	80. A Report

A/N: First, please visit this link and read this hilarious Obsession comic: http://s987(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/ae357/applepie4554/Stuff%20I%20need/?action=view¤t;=Gaaraneedstokisstakara(dot)jpg&newest=1

Then, if you have some moments and are feeling benign, please visit the blog—stalkertakara(dot)blogspot(dot)com—click the links in the latest post, and vote for me. (:

-o-

It wasn't until nightfall with the rain long past and the cold creeping on that Gaara stirred. I breathed an audible sigh of relief, breath slipping away into the chill air; Chie-sensei had pushed us to reach the oasis before nightfall, and she set him down beneath spreading fronds as he shifted. Abura cast me a knowing look, and I determinedly turned my eyes to the sky.

"Damn," I said suddenly, taking in the stars that speckled the heavens. "Yesterday was my birthday."

"_What?"_

I snickered; it came out more hollow than I meant it to, but it sounded like I felt. "You didn't notice either. But I remember thinking about it being the first of August... and that was the day before yesterday. I… forgot." I swallowed. "I forgot my own birthday."

Chie-sensei rested a hand on my shoulder, but Isane seemed to be the only one who knew what to say. "Happy birthday, Kori-chan!" she burst out happily, tossing a handful of sand into the air like confetti. "Let's party when we get back."

I grinned, but it couldn't last long. "We have the worst luck in birthdays," I said. "I was kidnapped for mine; Abura was in the hospital for his; and Gaara…" I thought back, trying desperately to calculate days through the tangle of Kansei-nin and training.

The realization struck me like a kunai to the heart, and I revised my dates, hoping desperately I had come up wrong. I hadn't.

Gaara's last birthday had been the day of Eiri's funeral.

And nobody had said a word.

I couldn't look away as he slowly struggled out of unconsciousness and attempted to sit up. When he at last succeeded, his eyes met mine, narrowed and confused to my wide and scared; and I suddenly, unreasonably, wondered if he knew what I was thinking.

"Welcome back, Gaara-sama," I stuttered, and dropped my gaze to the sand.

-o-

Suna's streets were a comfortable sight, the kind that made me want to drop to my knees and sleep in the middle of them. I was so infrequently home anymore. Still worn out from his transformation, Gaara wobbled slightly as sand drifted around him in a halfhearted homebound whirlwind.

"It's your turn to make sure he gets home, Takara-chan." Chie-sensei's words startled me as she smiled and turned. I glanced toward the redhead and nodded easily, though I suppressed a yawn myself.

"I have a report to give. You people get some rest."

Before she disappeared, she faced us again. "People," she began, then added, "Gaara-san accepted, you are not part of my squad." Interestedly, I noted the honorific that still bore a modicum of respect. "I want _you_ to start writing reports. You're only genin, but it'll be good practice. You may not be for long."

That was an interesting hint. I wished sincerely for a boring month.

Chie-sensei disappeared, leaving us standing in the night. Either Isane lived somewhere on her own now, or she was expected to make her own way back to Sensei's place.

With a nod and a weary goodnight to my squadmates, I turned my attention back to Gaara and gestured hesitantly to the path into the gloom.

-o-

"Stay," said Temari when I arrived on their doorstep. Our journey had been blessedly quiet; though words piled up in my throat, things I had to say—_happy birthday _first among them—we had both been to tired to speak.

Gaara's sister gingerly took her brother's elbow to support him, dark teal eyes trained on me. "To be honest, I'm not too sure you'll make it home awake."

"I'll be fine," I protested. _To be honest_. Was I?

"Then come back tomorrow."

"I… have a report to write," I said uneasily, and tried to think of a lie that could replace that. Failing to come up with one, I simply added, "It'll take all day."

"Listen, kid. You're going to—"

"Alright," I interrupted. "The day after tomorrow. You'll see me then."

I didn't plan on returning until at least the day after that.

But Gaara's eyes on mine, watching intently, thought to change that. I still could not lie to him.

And if he believed me, I had to make it the truth.

-o-

My weary feet took me automatically back to Nagi-sensei's door. I reached for the hilt of my katana and wondered if I should start sleeping in my own house again, but I still could not work up the courage. Slowly, I pushed open the door, which creaked loudly—Nagi-sensei's intruder alarm that I should have remembered and been more careful of, but my own footsteps would tell her it was me—and trudged inside.

She'd provided a bed in a spare room, but I still felt guilty using it, like I should have gone home by now. As long as I didn't sleep in it, I could pretend I was on the verge of leaving, only planning to spend one more night in someone else's house.

I curled up on the couch, my wooden katana a sturdy brace against my back.

I did not dream.

-o-

My first draft was more about Gaara than the mission. It read something along the lines of: _Gaara was incredible. I don't know what your problems are, but you jerks can't seem to see what he's worth. The Ame-nin wanted him to save their jinchuuriki, and he ended up saving me. He fought despite the rain that dragged him down, and he killed no one. Why don't you grow up and see that people change. He already has._

I scrapped that version right away, not wanting more D-rank missions for my troubles. Ripping that piece off the scroll, I folded it into a clumsy airplane and tossed it at Abura across the table. He torched it in midair, as I had expected; I considered it obliterated as ashes drifted down like the snow Suna so rarely saw.

The next three drafts read similarly. I kept chucking them at Abura until I thought he was going to set _me _on fire.

It wasn't until the fifth draft that I wondered if I was supposed to lie.

With a weary sigh, I lay my head on my arms and fought the urge to cry.

-o-

"Takara-chan, I can't believe you would ask me that question." Chie-sensei folded her arms and wore an expression of neutrality like a second face. "You should never lie to your superiors."

"Thanks, Sensei," I muttered, because I had no idea whether to take her words at face value or not. "Glad to clear that up."

I stole a glance around her living room as if I'd find a clue. Unless I could find a reason to draw this conversation out, I'd have to return to Abura's house—we'd been using his kitchen for the work because his mother was out for the day, guaranteeing us quiet—trailing wasted time. Well, I guess the trip wouldn't have been _completely_ wasted; it was an excuse to put off the report a little longer. The report that I really, really didn't want to write. That I wanted to write less and less with every passing second.

"Is Isane-chan here?" I asked, giving up hope that my friend would wander in and conveniently distract me. I would have to go to her. Chie-sensei rolled her eyes and gestured to the other room.

I found Isane concentrating intensely on swirls of chakra rope twining about itself. Furtive peeking showed me no glimpses of work-in-progress scrolls, so either she'd finished her report or she'd not even started it.

Her chakra twisted around her arm and slid back into her skin, and she turned to me with a brilliant smile. "Hello, Kori-chan!"

"Hey, Isane-chan, what's up? Finish your report already?" I added casually.

"Yep."

"Can I see it?" I asked eagerly, overcome with jealousy.

"I already turned it in to Chie-sensei," she said solemnly.

"Oh. Well. Thanks anyway."

It struck me in an instant. If Isane and Abura turned in a report and I turned in a lie, the discrepancy would be immediately obvious. For co-op missions, at least, I knew what to do.

"No, really, Isane-chan. You were a huge help, thanks!"

"I was?"

I beamed. "You're very inspirational. I gotta get back and finish my report now, I'll see you later!"

"Bye!"

-o-

I found Abura scorching letters into his kitchen table, his handwriting smoother and blockier than Eiri's spiky scrawl. "What is it with boys and wood tables?" I inquired as I flung myself back into my chair. "And their parents never care?"

Abura scowled at me. With a winning smile, I scribbled a few nondescript sentences about what had really happened—and I only threw in one line of dazzling praise for Gaara cunningly disguised as narrative—and furled up the scroll, announcing myself done.

"Cheh, right."

"You're just too much of a perfectionist, Abura-kun. Hurry up and finish, we can go train or something."

He flicked a tiny ember at me. It clung to my hair like a firefly; I scrabbled to brush it out, but it had already died when I swept it free. "Go train with your demon."

I leaned my elbows on the table and glared at him. "I really think you're jealous of the time I spend with Gaara, which is entirely ridiculous. _You_ are my teammate. He's not even family."

The word 'family' brought a gloom settling over me as I remembered my promise to Temari. _Tomorrow_. Maybe I'd get lucky and she would forget, so when I showed up only Gaara would be there because she and Kankuro had left on some errand. That seemed likely.

"Cheh. I have work to do. If you're only going to distract me, go away."

Frowning, I stood up, the legs of my chair scraping loudly on the floor. "Fine. I have a report to turn in."

Fuming, I stalked off.


	81. A Family

A/N: This is chapter **seventy-five.**Is that not exciting?! Fancy cool project announcement coming in a day or two, just as soon as I have confirmation from my partner. (: Sorry so much for the delay, again, as always. I'm sorry. To those very few of you being rude and impatient, please stop. Understand that I have a life outside of the internet, and there's a lot going on in it. To those of you being completely supportive and wonderful, thank you. I always, always appreciate it and it makes me so happy. (:

Part of the reason it took me so long to write this is that I was terrified of not being able to capture Temari's and Kankuro's personalities. I don't know them very well, I'm sad to say. ;; Hope this suffices.

P.S. There is lovely fanart I forgot to mention:  
http://element-girls(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/86-Seeing-Red-152169947  
http://brittster0709(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Abura-Fighting-158029121  
http://rose91(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/White-Dress-158146232

-o-

The sun rose early. I mean really early, seriously, since when does dawn come so soon? I tried desperately to roll over and go back to sleep, but a sneaking suspicion that Nagi-sensei had planted blunt kunai in her couch cushions in the night slowly crept over me.

"At least there's no time to dream," I said to the air, and rolled off the couch. I eyed it warily for a moment, tempted to examine it closely but afraid of what I'd find.

Then I took myself out into the swiftly-heating morning air with just my practice sword for company.

Noon found me in the same place, muscles screaming, black clothes clinging to my every movement. Sweat, exhaustion, and possibly heat stroke darkened my vision; I failed to notice Nagi-sensei's approach until she walked up and plucked the wooden katana neatly from my hands.

The momentum of my form carried me forward; too tired to catch myself, I dropped to the earth. Grit from the sandy ground of the training ring crept into the creases of my hands and knees. Breathing heavily, I squinted up at Nagi-sensei through sweat and sun.

"Taka has a promise to keep~!"

One of these days, I was going to figure out just how every jōnin in the village kept learning about my private conversations. From my place at her feet, I said bitterly, "Promises are lies."

"Nagi-sensei thinks _that_ is a lie."

I scowled at her. She beamed winningly back at me. And while she kept me on the ground with her bright-eyed stare, I considered.

I could make promises to Gaara. I couldn't tell him lies.

So that settled it.

I climbed to my feet and looked up into her eyes, holding out my hand for my katana. A retort rose to my lips, but I forced it down. She'd probably assign me five hundred sit-ups and a handful of D-Ranks. I still wasn't over those from the last time.

The last time. The last time that had kept me off the mission that had gotten Eiri killed.

My hand shook and I dropped it, clasping my fingers behind my back. It was always going to be like this, wasn't it? One thought sending me through a cascade of memories that ended in Eiri dying? Fifty years from now—if I lived that long—when all my old memories had been replaced, I'd still think of what I ate for breakfast and trigger a trail that led back to Eiri.

Nagi-sensei presented my katana and I forced myself to take it calmly. "Get a shower, Taka, and get to the meeting Taka needs to get to."

"I don't _need_ to get anywhere," I muttered, stalking away. She didn't move to stop me, but as I walked past, she said softly,

"Promises are only truths if they can trust you."

I glanced sharply back, but she smiled, waved, and stepped gaily into her house. I slammed my weapon point-first into the sand and sank back down beside it.

"All I wanna do now is go back to bed," I told the desert.

And if I was talking to myself and the open air, I really needed to.

-o-

I had two choices: follow Nagi-sensei inside and use one of her showers, or go home. I didn't have the courage to face my house and Gaara's family all in one day, so that left option one.

Well, I guess there was a third option: visit Gaara and company as is.

I nixed that alternative without even thinking about it. The very idea made me want to crawl into some cold, dark shadow and disappear. Or maybe just cry.

Suddenly I realized just how incredibly dry my throat was, how soaked with sweat _I _was, and how magnificently stupid I had been to spend dawn to noon under the sun. Muttering darkly—which didn't do anything for my throat, let me tell you—I struggled upwards until I was mostly standing and staggered back into the house.

I think I drank half the water coming out of the faucet before any of it hit my skin. I should've slowed down, but I was still looking for any excuse to back out of my promise to Temari. I just didn't know if I could face her. And Kankuro. Together. With Gaara watching.

Moaning, I leaned my against the droplet-spattered glass. One more thing I could _not _handle.

But it would be too mortifying to drown in the desert, so I washed off the sweat and turned off the water.

Alright. I was getting bored of this nonsense. I was a shinobi, and here I was spending too damn much time complaining about what I could not do.

This was about what I _could_ do.

Toweling off, I threw on some clothes—dressing up was out of the question; any party clothes I had left remained at my old house, happily removing the necessity of making that decision—and I walked out the door.

-o-

Standing before the door of the intimidatingly-large Kazekage's Mansion—so called even though our jewel of a leader was dead—I wondered if I had to knock or if I could just go in the window. I wondered next if the building had battalions of security who would be irritated to discover I could slip in around them, or if the Council didn't care enough about the Kazekage's children to keep them protected.

Finally, I wondered just how long I was going to stall, and raised my fist to knock. Then I spent another several minutes with my heart in my throat while the rabid butterflies chewed up my stomach lining. How long were they going to make me stand out here? Avoid or enter, I wanted it to be on my own terms.

That was a lie. I wanted to entirely avoid. They could leave me here long as they liked, so I could just walk away.

At that moment, the door swung open. Startled, I stepped back and looked up at both Gaara's older siblings.

"Er, hello," I said nervously. "I promised...."

"Took you long enough." Kankuro smirked down at me, cat-eared hood pulled over his head and not putting me at all at ease. "We were starting to think you were a liar."

I took offense to that. "I had training," I snapped, not strictly the truth. But then, I _was_ a liar. I just didn't want them to know it.

"Your squad hasn't seen you all morning." Temari's smirk was subtler, but no less superior. "Kankuro went looking."

"What you fail to realize," I said irritably, "is that I am currently training with one Ishiko Nagisa, who is not a member of my team."

Their expressions slid into varying degrees of scowls at thwarted logic. Kankuro's face darkened; Temari merely narrowed her eyes. Sands, didn't anyone in this family ever smile and have a good time? Greet guests with a welcoming handshake and an offer of tea? In a minute, I was going to have to invite myself in.

"Temari? Kankuro?"

I recognized the voice instantly, of course, and the heart so firmly lodged in my throat performed a bizarre sort of flop. It was either relief at no longer being alone with Gaara's intimidating siblings or further anxiety at adding Gaara himself to the mix.

"Gaara—" I glanced again up at Kankuro and Temari and quickly added, "—sama. Good afternoon." I couldn't see him through the wall of sibling, though Kankuro had half turned around to keep his eye on his little brother. No one wanted Gaara at their back.

Except me. And sometimes even that was in question.

I'd rather be at his.

"Takara."

He spoke my name without inflection, a flat statement of fact. Nonetheless, a shiver tickled my spine. Had he ever said my name before? I couldn't remember. I thought not.

Maybe it was worth coming here after all.

"I'm here," I said. "Like I said I would be. But your family doesn't seem to want to let me in the door."

"Hey." Kankuro looked indignant; I shrugged as he and Temari backed apart, revealing Gaara standing in the doorway across the room.

"Good afternoon," I greeted again, not sure what else to say as I stepped into the cool building. "Er… smaller welcoming party than I expected."

"What're you—" Kankuro began, but Temari interrupted.

"Security's been lax since Father died." She folded her arms. I marveled that she still called him 'father' when he'd been anything but to them. Or maybe he'd only mistreated Gaara. "As shinobi, we're expected to take care of ourselves. Suna's enemies no longer have anything to gain by attacking us.

"Yet you still live in the Kazekage's Mansion," I pointed out. Her eyes flashed.

"They wouldn't dare kick us out."

Kankuro snorted. "Actually, they probably will when we get a new Kazekage."

"Unless it's one of the family," I muttered.

"Hey, I don't want the job. Temari?"

"Not a chance."

Gaara said nothing, but I couldn't possibly imagine he wanted it either. He wasn't a people person.

"Er," I said awkwardly. "Did we have plans—?"

"You can stay for supper," Temari said abruptly, and stalked off.

"Hey, what am I supposed to do with her?" Kankuro called as she stepped past Gaara. I was surprised to see the redhead shift sideways to let her by, and she didn't flinch as he moved.

"Stick her in a spare room and tell her to wait!" came the response.

Oh goody. Didn't that sound like fun.

-o-

A/N: 1000th review coming up soon! I'm really excited! Who'll get it?!


	82. A Conversation

A/N: Whoo, managed to not wait a whole month before finishing this, eh? In case you didn't read the AN chapter (go read it, there's a project, it's gonna be fun), Obsession has hit 1000 reviews. Wow. One thousand. One-zero-zero-zero. Seriously I am impressed.

Thanks a billion to all of you, every last one. Yeah, you. That's right. I wouldn't be here without you. Barrages of hearts for you all.

-o-

Gaara followed wordlessly as Kankuro, grumbling, led me down an array of hallways I did my best to memorize. I had never explored the Kazekage's Mansion in detail, but I started to consider the idea now that I knew I wouldn't be converged on by a squad of ANBU once I got inside. I'd only ever looked for Gaara's room in the past.

Kankuro shoved a door open at random and glanced inside. "Is this good enough for you?" he asked, face settled into an irritated expression that was almost a pout.

I peered around him to survey a regal grey couch and a bed about three times the size of anything I'd ever slept in—outside my mother's, when I was young enough to curl up next to her to save me from nightmares. These days, my former nightmare stood at my shoulder, held my heart in his pale hands, and said, "It is passable," to Kankuro's question.

"Jeez, I'm never going to get a ringing endorsement out of you, am I?"

Time was, such an irritable question would have been a threat to Kankuro's health. But Gaara offered nothing more than a flat stare—which nonetheless quelled his brother's snide remarks.

"Stay here and wait for Temari," Kankuro ordered. I didn't feel particularly intimidated in the face of his purple painted and cat-eared hood. Maybe if he'd been carrying his puppet, bandage-wrapped corpse that it appeared to be, I would have been scared into obeying.

"Where'd she go?" I asked instead.

"How should I know? I can't read her mind." He looked about to push me into the room, then changed his mind for some unfathomable reason and merely stormed off.

"He's not very polite," I informed Gaara mournfully as I stepped into the room. The couch was bizarrely placed, shoved against the front of a dresser along the wall. A mirror hung opposite; I glanced into it as I headed for the bed. Sun raked my face and dappled my arms, products of my avoidance tactics. I looked away before I concentrated too hard on my ragged hair—which hadn't been cut in months—or bruised eyes. Soon Gaara and I would look more like siblings than Gaara and Temari.

Strange, I thought idly, because I _was_ sleeping. So why did my eyes look so tired?

"Gaara," I said, hopping backwards onto the bed and crossing my legs, "what keeps you awake at night? How can you stand to be so tired and yet not sleep?"

He stood in front of me, gourd too awkward to allow him to sit. "I… have a family."

"I don't" slipped out before I could think about it. I wanted to be glad he thought of Temari and Kankuro as family at last, but I could only wonder if a family really was all that kept the demon locked out of his dreams. If it was, I'd be snapping any day now.

"…Don't you?"

"My father…" I paused. I didn't think Gaara realized the full story. I skipped it. "My parents are dead. I never had any siblings."

No. That was a lie, I remembered, just as Gaara said, "Your squad…"

I almost told him not everyone's team was made up of relatives like his. But anyone whose squad wasn't family would be dead in a day. I had one brother left, and a foster sister, and as good a mother as any.

If I lost those three, I'd be as good as crazy. Until then, they'd keep me awake.

"Yeah," I agreed, "my squad. Can't believe I forgot about them."

-o-

The thing was, that still didn't explain why Gaara hadn't slept all those years growing up; it only explained the most recent few. I could speculate until I was blue in the face, but I doubted even Gaara himself knew. I let the conversation drift slowly elsewhere, though I wasn't sure what to talk about. A semi-awkward silence ensued, though Gaara was so used to living in silence that it probably wasn't awkward to him at all. I shifted uneasily on the bed, searching for some topic to bring up. The silence lingered. I _really_ didn't know what to say to him.

"Your birthday," I blurted finally. A flicker of confused touched his eyes. "We didn't celebrate…." I swallowed. _We celebrated Eiri's birth and death, but not yours._ "Did you do something with Temari and Kankuro?"

"They made a cake."

Well, that was something. My heart lifted slightly. "How was it?"

"Kankuro burned it."

Of course he did.

"Did it still taste good?"

He hesitated, puzzled. _It could be burnt black and I would still savor it, _I suddenly, unreasonably, wanted to say to him, _if you made it for _me. But that had little to do with the conversation at hand.

"Temari is… a good cook. Impatient…"

"Well, she is the oldest…. I, um, bet your—I bet the Kazekage never cooked for you."

"There were servants."

"Yeah." Key word: _were_, I guessed. "You'd think patience would be helpful for cooking, though. Maybe she just cooks everything on high." I only knew a little about cooking—enough to sustain me on missions, and a tad bit I had picked up from Mom when she'd made something for a party.

My stomach fluttered, suddenly clamoring as if trying to recreate the cacophony of those late nights, food and people and noise that had driven me into the shadows for life. It wasn't as if I missed it, but it seemed the butterflies inside me d id.

I wrenched my attention back to the discussion. "Did you get any gifts?" I should have given him a gift. Why hadn't I given him a gift? What could I _possibly_ give him?

"Kankuro said he wished to give me a kitten."

I choked on a snicker, forcing myself not to dissolve into laughter. "They are adorable."

"Perhaps one day… not now."

Too bad, but that was probably better for said kitten's health. I was absurdly proud of Gaara, both for recognizing _one day_ and _not now_. "So, nothing?"

"…No."

Ah. They probably would have found it too awkward, Gaara's first birthday with gifts. The cake was strange enough… but I couldn't reign in a smile. It was also a good start.

"What about your birthday?"

I dropped my smile in surprise, then tentatively reestablished it as I thought back a few days. "It was four—five days ago, if you count today." And today had been long enough already that I figured I could legitimately count it.

He frowned. "In Amegakure. You didn't celebrate."

"No. How could I?" I paused. "Next week we'll have a party. A belated birthday for both of us."

Damn. Why had I said that? Now I really did have to come up with a gift. I did not need another hole to dig myself into. I'd seen enough graves for a lifetime. Too bad none of them were empty, or I would have crawled in and covered myself in sand.

Of course, Gaara could unbury me with a thought, if he so chose. Since I would be hiding from _him_, there were probably better options than unfilled graves.

Abruptly, I wondered how many Kansei-nin had been buried with faces not their own. Morbidly, I tried to guess if they would slide back to their natural features before they rotted away. Fighting the wobbly, drunken insects in my stomach, I shook off the imaginings. I was having a perfectly reasonable, if mildly awkward, conversation with Gaara, and I refused to interrupt it with a train of thought likely to make me sick. Now that I was here, leaving—especially after throwing up—would just be impossibly humiliating. I would likely never be able to look Gaara or his siblings in the eye again.

And of course, somehow, the story would get out—and I would never be able to look _anybody_ in the eye again. Abura would tease me mercilessly.

Well. I hoped Abura would tease me mercilessly. These days he seemed surlier than usual; embarrassing as it would be, I would prefer a smirk and a mocking word to his scowling dark cloud.

I needed to talk to him about that.

Now my throat seized up, too. Since my stomach was still trying to spew bile up through that newly-closed throat, I ended up choking instead of crying.

A few tears glittered free as I coughed, proving that I, in fact, did both. Hurriedly, I scrubbed them away. This was no time to cry over Abura's smoky temper. Stupid boy, he didn't make any sense anyway. Now was my chance to focus on Gaara. Abura wasn't here. In fact, Gaara and I were alone in a room in the Kazekage's mansion, and I didn't know why I couldn't just sit here and enjoy that fact.

I opened my mouth to continue our conversation. How, I didn't know, but I was saved the trouble of figuring it out; the door swung open and Temari leaned in, bringing my unspoken words to a stuttering halt.


	83. A Sister

A/N: Yeah… my reviews are starting to pile up again. I hope you can forgive me…. ;; Be sure to check out the project a few chapters back if you haven't already! There are still plenty of characters open.

-o-

"Hey, Gaara," the blonde greeted. "Can I talk to Takara?" I shifted uncomfortably at the instant formality; I didn't think I knew her well enough that she could just leave off any honorific.

"Yes." He didn't move; he had remained standing through the whole conversation, and he stayed in the same place now. It was a bit unnerving, like talking to a statue, but what _wasn't_ unnerving about this situation?

"Just us, Gaara." Temari quirked an eyebrow and shrugged, splaying her palms in sheepish supplication. "The girls need a talk."

His brow creased, just slightly, and then he gave a slight nod and trudged toward the exit. We watched him go, I with a touch of regret in my throat; the door shut with a tiny swirl of sand drawing it closed.

That left me alone with Temari, who folded her arms and looked a bit snarky. Hesitantly, I gestured at a spot on the bed next to me, not looking forward to another conversation with someone who wouldn't sit down.

"Akashi, did you just invite me to sit in my own house?" I winced. A minute ago we were on no-honorific terms, and now it was family name only. How was I supposed to address her?

"Sorry," I said guiltily, and she sat down anyway. I held in any comments I might have on the matter.

"Sorry for making you wait," she said haughtily, sounding not in the least bit apologetic. "I had to tell the servants you were staying for dinner."

Gaara had definitely made the servants sound past tense, so I wasn't really sure what she was talking about. "I only have a few minutes, have to go supervise them."

I looked closer at her eyes, lined with rings almost as deep as Gaara's, it seemed. How many Kansei-nin had she been ordered to kill? How many late nights had she been forced into, while trying to run a household she didn't want to run? The scents of citrus and sage hung in the air around her, and I guessed she was making dinner herself.

Instead of calling her on her lie, I said, "It's okay," and changed the subject. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Gaara."

"Ah." Of course she did. "I don't really want to talk about Gaara." I could, in reality, talk about Gaara all day. I didn't look forward to doing so with his sister.

"Why not? Is he listening at the door?"

I paused a moment, taking a trickle of chakra to sink into the shadows under the door and along the hallway. "No…"

"Then there's no reason not to." She folded her arms again and arced an eyebrow. I decided I should have just said yes.

"What about him?" I muttered.

"You changed him."

I scoffed. "_I _changed him? Uzumaki Naruto did. I was just there to watch."

"Uzumaki isn't the one he follows around."

"He doesn't… follow me…" Abruptly, I suffered a flash of memory: _I don't stalk him! I just… follow him a lot._ I'd always lived in denial, hadn't I? "Alright," I muttered. "I'm sorry. I know he doesn't spend enough time at home…."

Temari looked at me like she couldn't believe Gaara had attached himself to someone so stupid. "Akashi, the only reason Gaara isn't at our throats anymore is _because_ he's not home all the time. Moderation. We're getting used to him."

"Oh. Then I'll—" What would I do? Keep doing what I was doing? Which was what? She was confusing me. "Temari-san, what do you want from me? I don't assign missions. I can't officially bring him with us…."

"Don't you have an opening in your squad?"

My breath caught as I was bombarded with the heart-rending reminder that Eiri was gone. "Um, Isane…"

"The Kumo-nin?" Temari's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Is she officially part of your team now?"

"I—I don't think she's even officially Suna-nin," I muttered. "But Chie-sensei's assigned to watch her…."

"What if we took her?" Temari asked unexpectedly. My head shot up in surprise.

"What?"

"And Gaara could apply for a transfer to your squad, once that responsibility is lifted. I'll convince the Council. Those morons can't argue; he's calmer around you, more in control." Temari didn't seem much like the diplomatic type, but her fist clenched with a determination that said looks could be deceiving. I hated to stand in her way.

"Er, I don't know," I mumbled meekly, failing to deflate her in the least. "You'll have to ask Isane-chan."

"Akashi… do you _want_ my brother on your team?"

"Yes!" I flared, more adamantly than I'd intended. Quieter, I added, "But Gaara's not my only friend," after a moment's pause to decide the best way to phrase it. I'd chosen to underline that, yes, he _was_ my friend—and abruptly, I remembered his definition, from—oh, was it years ago? _A person whom one knows… who is not hostile…_

Temari exhaled loudly. "Fine. I'll talk to her and the Council." She scowled slightly at the mention of the latter, as if the word left a sour taste in her mouth. "And _then_ would you agree?"

"Y—" I stopped, considered the family I already had.

"I, yeah," I continued. "But I'd have to talk to the rest of my team. I—" I hesitated again. "I don't think Abura's going to be on board."

Maybe I should have lied, to protect our family's privacy, but this was unfortunately true. "I'll try," I tacked on honestly, finding it hard to fib in the face of Temari's hope.

She exhaled again. "Akashi, I will be glad to have you as a sister."

"Um," I said. "I think we're jumping ahead a bit."

"Damn I hope so." She slid off the bed. "I bet dinner is burning. If you see my idiot brother, tell him to get to the kitchen and whip some servants into shape."

I translated that as: _Tell Kankuro to help make dinner_. I determined that, if it was already burned, there was nothing to lose.

"Will do," I promised.

With the ghost of a smirk, she vanished through the door.

-o-

I guess Gaara really wasn't listening at the door, because he didn't show up the moment Temari walked out. In fact, I sat awkwardly on the quilted bed for several minutes before getting up and exiting the room.

The strain of these conversations was really starting to wear on me; I wished I could just leave. I needed to talk to Abura. I needed to talk to Isane. I needed to talk to Chie-sensei. I needed to talk to Eiri. No, what I really needed was probably to be alone, but if the trend continued, I'd be having a heart-to-heart with Kankuro next. I decided I'd advise him against kittens for the time being. I'd drop a hint about maybe later though.

In fact, if Temari hadn't already moved to make enough dinner for me, I probably would have left. But she'd gone through all that effort—and lied her way through the humiliation of all the hired help having departed without the Kazekage's authority to keep them here—and walking on out on that would be the height of cruelty. I doubted I'd be able to look Gaara in the eye for years. Not that I was very good at that now.

Instead, I took it into my head to explore. After all, I'd only ever seen the Kazekage's mansion from outside—only ever seen Gaara's room from the outer wall—and I didn't know where anything was from inside. It wouldn't do to get lost in the house of a future teammate.

Unfortunately, this line of thinking took me down a completely different path than my feet. I set my controls to wander and forgot to pay attention—thus failing to learn anything about the floor plan of the mansion—as I considered the possibility of having Gaara as a squadmate.

Abura would never stand for it. Abura hated Gaara already, and not even for the reasons all Sunagakure shinobi hated Gaara—at least, not anymore. At least, I didn't think so. Or I hoped not.

The more I pondered it, the more I realized I didn't know a damn thing about Abura's reasons. All I knew was that he was angry at me all the time. Initially I'd chalked it up to Eiri, and now jealousy. What was it really?

First I was struck with the overpowering urge to leave this too-empty mansion and hunt down Abura. Then I was struck with the memory that I had gotten lost in Eiri's house, trying to make a cake to commemorate a birthday he'd never celebrate.

Then I was struck with something large and solid as I ran into Kankuro. This made a brilliant excuse for the sorrow welling up in my throat and spilling out of my eyes as I rebounded painfully.

"Temari-san says to go to the kitchen," I said thickly, trying to recover from thoughts of Eiri, the collision, and the embarrassment of not watching where I was going all at once and failing at all three.

"You're way behind," he informed me smugly. "I'm here to collect you." His expression soured slightly and he added under his breath, "Gaara could've found you faster."

"Yeah, well," I said, covering my surprise at this news, "as you're the only one I haven't had a heartfelt conversation with, I assume she wanted to give us a chance. I hope you don't mind if I don't take it. Which way to dinner?"


	84. A Solution

A/N: This next arc is mostly for Sil, who requested something Abura-related as a reward for catching the 1000th review. (: And it's also for everyone else who thought Abura was getting left out.

-o-

I didn't even notice what I was eating, I was focused so intently on the tension that made the air thick and taut. No one seemed to know what to say; Gaara ate slowly and intently, Kankuro kept throwing me inscrutable, superior glances over his food, and Temari just watched me while she ate, occasionally smiling but mostly just smirking. I wouldn't have realized it if they'd put a puddle of melted ice cream burnt black in front of me; I would have just assumed it was soup and devoured it as an excuse not to look up.

"So, Takara-chan," began Temari, setting down her spoon—and what was with the weird informality again? "When did you first meet Gaara?"

"Er," I said, "I don't remember." As if I could forget. "Chūnin Exams?"

And the rest of the meal went like that. After the silence, Kankuro and Temari apparently had a thousand questions that couldn't wait, and I was kept busy trying not to choke on my still-unknown food as I decided when to lie and when to tell the truth.

Gaara didn't speak. Once he finished eating, he just stared at me, making it even harder for me to focus. Every time I thought he was getting more social, he pulled one of these staring contests—but maybe he just wasn't comfortable conversing in front of his siblings. I was going to start crossing my truths and contradicting my lies if I didn't concentrate. But I couldn't shake the feeling of Gaara's eyes on me.

I actually made it out of the meal alive, miracle of miracles. I made it to the door of the mansion without tripping, even with Temari leading the way and Kankuro and Gaara on my heels. I stood there, inching backwards and uttering a mouthful of bland thanks.

"Sure you don't want to stay the night?" Kankuro smirked at me, as if I should find this funny. Rather than waste energy with a retort—keeping up that conversation had been _exhausting_—I professed my regret, another slew of thanks, and nearly fell out the door.

"Good night, Gaara-sama," I managed, before I slid into the shadows and hoped they thought I'd been swallowed by the night.

I swayed, leaning against a building two streets away from the Kazekage's Mansion. The wild thought chased its own tail around my brain that I wanted to go talk to Abura _right now_. But judging by the chill—I hadn't expected to be there so long, and I hadn't dressed for the cold—it couldn't be too far from midnight—sands, we had talked a _lot_, what had I given away?—and I feared for the safety of my hair if I barged into a pyromaniac's house while he was a sleep. His mother probably wouldn't be too happy with me either.

Plus, I was dangerously close to passing out where I stood. I could find my teammate in the morning.

-o-

I was too tired to dream, something I thanked the desert for liberally as I rose too early. I forced myself to go through all my katana exercises before I sought Abura; stumbling into his house still half-asleep wouldn't be good for either of us. He'd never been much for talking, and now… Well, he was going to make it difficult enough for me without me adding a muddled head to the conversation.

The sun was long up and the heat creeping steadily into the day by the time I let myself head for the Kuraho home, keeping to the cloaking shade of the building-cast shadows. I knocked on the door and waited until Abura's round, warm mother opened it.

"Good morning, Kuraho-san, I need to talk to Abura-kun," I said pleasantly.

"He's still asleep, Takara-chan," she said, stepping back to let me in. "Would you like pancakes?"

In my determination to complete all my exercises, I had in fact forgotten breakfast. "That would be wonderful," I said gratefully, and followed her to the kitchen. The wooden table was small and blissfully free of carved names, but not of scorch marks. If Abura took too long, I'd be likely to fall back into a sleep-deprived stupor and pass out waiting for him. Sighing, I rested my elbows on the table and commenced waiting.

Abura's mother and I had both gone through two rounds of pancakes and cleaned most of the kitchen twice before I saw a flurry of movement coming from the stairway running up past the kitchen. I whipped around to follow it, but there was nothing there; bemused, I turned back to the Kuraho matriarch.

"That _was_ Abura, wasn't it?"

"Yes." She gave me a strange look and the barest hint of a smile. "I wonder why he wouldn't come down."

I yawned. "Maybe he forgot to put on a shirt, which he normally wouldn't care about if only his mother was in the kitchen." I imagined Isane would be quite entertained by the image that entered my head, but I shook it off. What was _wrong_ with me? I was no matchmaker, and Isane still loved Eiri. If anything, she loved Naruto now—a match I was equally delighted with, as long as she didn't expect the Konoha blond to _be_ the Suna one we'd all lost.

If he really was putting on a shirt, his room must have been such a mess that he couldn't find one, because it was half an hour before he came stomping down the stairs.

"Cheh. Still here."

"Yes." I eyed him warily. "Your pancakes have gone cold." I pointed to the stove; he torched the things black with a snap of his fingers, flung them onto a plate, and jabbed furiously at them without sitting down, as I was in his chair. I scooted toward his mother.

"Kuraho-san," I whispered, "does he _always_ eat his food like charcoal?"

"Only when he's up early," she said.

Since it was rapidly approaching _almost lunchtime_, I wondered just how late Abura'd been up that this was early for him. He used to prefer sleeping through the dark hours and waking to watch the sun trail its fire into the sky. Something was seriously wrong here.

"Don't worry," I told her confidently under my breath. "I'll fix this."

"Cheh, my pancakes are long past fixing," he snapped in a tone that assured me he'd heard the rest of our brief conversation just fine.

I wasn't as confident as I'd made myself sound, but I thought I had a chance. I hadn't known Abura as long as his mother, but I thought I might know him better. That was presumptuous—thinking to know a boy better than his own mother did. But Kuraho Tanebi had not known Urusai Eiri, but Kuraho Abura and I had.

I waited until he'd finished his hockey-puck pancakes and dumped his plate in the sink, then stood up. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm right here."

"We are going _somewhere else,_" I informed him deliberately. "In the kitchen is your mother, and I doubt she will like the things I am shortly going to say to her son."

"I would not be so sure," she muttered mournfully, almost wistfully. She'd never stood up as a particularly assertive woman in my mind, but I'd have guessed she wanted someone to wake her son from this stupor.

"…And I am frankly terrified of your room," I went on, casting her a look. "So we're going to find some nice open space and have a conversation in which you _wake the hell up_."

"_Cheh." _I had a brief vision of my head on fire which I was temporarily certain would soon be my future, judging by the fury twisting Abura's face. "I don't have to listen to you."

"Oh yes you do," I said firmly, which of course he didn't, but if I said it with enough authority, he might believe I knew something that would make him listen. "Come on." I reached forward, grabbing his wrist; his skin burned my palm, but not enough to make me let go.

"Kuraho-san, thank you for the pancakes," I said cheerfully, dragging her son from the premises.

-o-

We ended up in some near-empty open-air café with cute little paisley umbrellas trying to desperately ward off the sun's heat. Abura pointed out that this was hardly private. I told him to shut up. He said that if I wanted him to cooperate, I was going to have to stop being so rude. I glared at him.

"How late were you up last night?"

"Cheh, does it matter?"

"Yes, it does." I stared him down until he muttered, "Three."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Taka—"

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I repeated angrily. "It's Eiri, but it's not just Eiri. You hate the darkness."

"Cheh. Have to get used to it, squadmate like you."

"I hardly even _see_ you anymore."

"_Chehh. _Noticed, have you?"

"Yes," I snapped, and paused. "Hold on. You're not trying to make this my fault."

"Yours, that stupid demon's." His sneer could have scorched skin off a lesser ninja's bones. I threw my hands in the air.

"He's not a demon! Hasn't he proved that enough? He's saved our lives, you know! He's our friend!"

"Cheh,_ your_ friend, your crazy demon lover—"

"Oh, for sand's sake, we're fourteen, not—"

"—and I'm family," he went on, teeth gritted, speaking over me, scornful _cheh_ practically wrapped around every word, "_Eiri_ was _family_, and without Eiri you've _left us behind._"

I stared at him, speechless, his expression sour and maybe a little sad—though he burned the tears from his eyes before they even thought about coming to light. "That's it, that's why you're jealous," I said.

"Cheh, _jealous._"

"I'm spending more time with Gaara than with my own team." I faltered, thinking about Temari's proposal the night before. If Gaara were _part_ of my team… Abura would never stand for it. Not after this. "Than my own family."

Abura glowered at me in silence. I stood up, pushing my lacy metal chair back with a scrape. (No wonder this café was empty if they used metal chairs. Cute, but scorching when the sun hit them.)

"Fine," I said. "Let's find Chie-sensei. We'll ask for a mission for just the two of us." I hesitated. "Or do you want Isane-chan to come, too?"

"Cheh, I didn't say I wanted this at all—"

"Just us then," I interrupted loudly, moving around the table and tugging him up by his sleeve. "We'll ask for delivery or escort, something easy, don't need Sensei—delivery, so there's no third party to interrupt our _family time_—and we'll sort this thing out."


	85. A Visit

A/N: Hey y'all. Sorry for the delay. Those who read _Sand Child_ already know this, but I'm starting college in a few days, so I don't know how much time I'll have to write until I get into the swing of things. Remember, I will not give this story up until it's done. All my love! -Kit

-o-

Isane opened Chie-sensei's door; suddenly, at the way her eyes lit up at the sight of her only friends in the desert, I felt guilty at taking Abura and leaving her behind.

"Hi, Kori-chan, Abura-kun!"

"Hi." I blinked. "Um, Isane-chan, is Chie-sensei here?"

"She went to talk to the Council." Was it just me or did her face fall infinitesimally? I couldn't read her anymore.

I made a split-second decision. "We're going to ask for a mission. Wanna come?"

This time her face really fell. "I can't go on any missions right now. I'm on probation."

"Probation?"

A bit of light returned to her blue eyes. "I'm not sure. But I think the Council's gonna let me be a Suna ninja! Or at least, a Suna civilian. If Chie-sensei can make them."

"She can," I assured her, grinning. I dropped Abura's wrist, nearly forgetting he was actually quite likely to run off, and gave Isane a cheerful hug. I nearly lost the grin as I abruptly remembered Temari's proposal. Was I going to leave her among people she hardly knew? Well, I could fix that.

"Isane-chan, come with. I'll introduce you to Temari-san. If you're gonna live here, you should know more people than just us."

She pulled back, a new smile splitting her beaming face. "'K!"

I turned around, half expecting the street behind me to be empty. Surprisingly, Abura still stood there, albeit with a scowl and crossed arms. No longer smiling, I rolled my eyes at him.

"Cheer up, grumpy." Linking arms with Isane, who'd stepped out and shut the door, I reattached myself to Abura's wrist. "Come on."

-o-

Temari answered the door, looking surprised to see me back so soon. I was surprised to see me back so soon, too. "Hello," I said, smiling innocently up at her. "These are my teammates, Mizu Isane and Kuraho Abura." I thought briefly about giving them fake names, but they only would have looked at me funny and reintroduced themselves, since the point of this _was_ to tell her who they were.

"Charmed," she said shortly, folding her arms. "Why are they here?"

"Well, I just thought Isane-chan needed more friends, and Abura-kun and I need to talk to Chie-sensei, who's talking to the Council, so we—" I could practically feel Abura's glare burning into the back of my head, so I hastily corrected myself. "—I brought Isane-chan with us on the way."

"Akashi," said Temari, "you wander through my front door to interrupt a council session?"

"And to introduce you to _Isane-chan_," I emphasized irritably. Back to this formal/informal dance, was it?

"Hmm." She regarded us steadily where we stood on her doorstep. "Did you ask her?"

"I asked her," I said carefully, "if she wanted to go on a mission with Abura-kun and I. But she's on probation to see if the Council will make her a citizen of Suna. And if she's going to be a citizen, she needs more friends here! Right?" I decided Temari was being purposely difficult, because she certainly wasn't stupid.

"Temari-san, are you going to let us in or what?"

"Sorry, Akashi, I'm not going to let you and your teammate loose to get lost in my house on your way to the _political_ section of my house to interrupt the _Council_." She snorted. "I don't like them, but that's not a good idea."

"Just call Kankuro-san to show us the way then," I said hopefully. "So we won't get lost."

"What, you don't even want Gaara?"

"Um… Gaara-sama would not be the most tactical choice in this situation." I cast Abura what I hoped would be a surreptitious, significant glance. My hopes were dashed when I found him glaring straight at me. I grinned sheepishly, surprised he still hadn't taken the opportunity to run off yet.

At last, Temari stepped back to let us in. "Hey, Isane-chan," she greeted, but she gave us other two the hairy eyeball, as if to keep us from further invading her house. Her use of the possessive made me want to giggle; she was right—no way would the Council ever get her to leave, no matter who was Kazekage.

"Hi, Temari-chan! Nice to meet you!"

Isane seemed mightily buoyed by all this talk of friends and citizenship. I tried to edge around the outskirts of the room and down a hallway while Temari was occupied with introductions, but Abura seemed disinclined to follow, making it rather hard to sneak.

"Come on!" I hissed, flapping a hand at him. "Abura-kun!"

His glare intensified. I thought I was going to go up in smoke. "Oh, for sand's sake!"

Unfortunately, Temari was not deaf _or _blind. "Akashi," she said threateningly. I sighed and slumped into a chair in the foyer.

"This is important," I said pleadingly. I tried to think of a lie that would convince her, but with Abura standing right there, he could easily discredit any untruths I spouted. Not to mention he'd figure out I'd broken my promise to quit lying.

"And the Council session isn't?"

"Well…" She had me there. They probably didn't call the Council together to talk about what type of tea to have for breakfast the next day. I grumbled intelligibly for a few moments and then looked up. "So how long's it gonna take?"

"How should I know?"

"Chie-sensei left just after breakfast," Isane piped up. It was a little past lunchtime now, a fact I had failed to notice. Ninja had no choice but to skip meals every once in a while, so I guess my stomach didn't much care. But since I imagined the Council as being made up of stuffy, spoiled snobs, I figured they wouldn't want to miss their scheduled food stops.

I guess I should have realized that the ninja council would be made up of real ninjas. After an hour of sitting there, watching Abura quivering as if he were ready to bolt while Isane chatted with a vigilant Temari, I started to get bored.

"Isane-chan, I'm going to ask you something."

"Oh no," I said, sitting bolt upright from my slump in the chair. "Not while I'm around. Come on, Abura-kun." And this time I'd snagged his wrist and whisked us both out into the hall before Temari could call me a coward.

"Cheh, what was _that?"_

"I told her she had to do that herself," I said grimly, yanking him down a corridor in case she tried to follow and drag us back.

"Oi, Akashi!" belted out toward us, and I frowned.

"How come Isane-chan gets _-chan_ and I get family name only? Jeez," I muttered. "Trying to remind herself that we're not sisters yet? Oh, er—" I glanced at Abura, who seemed to have taken great offense at the idea that Temari would one day be my sister—and I didn't think it was because he disliked the idea that I could be married to Kankuro. "Er, back up," I said, and pressed us both against the wall as I heard footsteps following the voice. Shadows wove across my vision, tinting the world grey and hiding us from pursuit.

Abura began to thrash against my grip. I hissed at him to be still, but flames flickered at the tips of his fingers. "Cheh, I told you last time we did this," he spat. "It's too dark."

"And I told _you_, it's not dark! Just grey!" I tried to keep my voice to a loud whisper, but he was being entirely frustrating.

"Cheh! Ever stop to think that not everyone sees your world your way, Takara-chan?" His voice was so full of derision I nearly let the shadows slip away in surprise. It sounded like—like he really hated me. The idea that I had done that, inspired such scorn, made me want to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness. Not that I would give him the satisfaction, but—sands, I really had forgotten my family, hadn't I?

"Of course I do," I mumbled in a complete and utter lie, and felt terrible for it.

Then I looked up and saw Temari standing directly in front of us; I really needed to learn how to hide sounds, too, but that didn't seem like something the shadows could do. Well, I would work on it.

"Akashi, I can't see you, but you better believe I can hear you." Her arms were folded again—big surprise—and Isane peeked around her shoulder.

"That's just Kori-chan's specialty," she said cheerfully. "What did you need to ask before Kori-chan dashed away?"

"Why do you keep calling her Kori-chan?" Temari demanded, half-turning. I started edging along the wall, grip still tight around Abura's wrist, wondering if Isane was distracting Temari on purpose or by pure chance. Either way, I wasn't going to question it. I'd thank her later.

"Because it's her name of course!" I heard Isane say, before I'd slipped around a corner and dragged Abura down the presented hallway out of earshot.

I took several more turns at random, then chose a door that was open a crack and pushed through it, pyromaniac in hand. I stopped so short that Abura stepped on my heels with an irritated _cheh_.

"Oh," I said. "Hello, Gaara-sama."

Abura bristled so much I thought his hair was going to light on fire. Gaara just stared at us. "Do you know when the council session will be over?" I asked hurriedly, as if that was the reason I had come in here. I didn't know who I was trying to convince of that, but either way, it didn't seem to be working.

"It has just let out."

"Oh. Well, I have to go find our—I mean my—" I glanced at Abura again. "—I mean our sensei. Oh and I'm going on a mission probably after we find her, so I won't see you for a while," I added in a rush. "Bye."

And then, treading on Abura's toes, I backed out the door before he had the time to set Gaara's head on fire. I really, _really_ didn't think the Shukaku would let that slide.

And no matter how much control Gaara had learned, I didn't think he would let that slide, either.


	86. A Start

A/N: Hey, have you checked out what is posted as CHAPTER 82 recently? We still need about 35 people to complete the picture. Yikes! Come on, I know there are more artists than this! :P This is actually chapter 80, so twenty more chapters until the big project should be complete!

AN INTERESTING NOTE: Just now, I received my first ever review calling Takara a Mary Sue. Now, PLEASE don't bombard me messages declaring SHE'S NOT A SUE, because I really don't care about that. (Seriously, don't.) This review was not a blatantly obnoxious flame, but in fact raised legitimate points—I only wish it was signed so I could reply and thank the author for another point of view.

The only thing that really bugs me is that the reviewers stated that Takara was "obviously a author avatar." I'm not sure why s/he believes this is a legitimate accusation, as s/he knows nothing about me. In fact, I just want to say this: TAKARA IS NOTHING LIKE ME, other than that I adore Gaara. I just deleted an entire rant about HOW she is not like me because I decided that was unnecessary, but really. She doesn't even LOOK like (a prettier) me, a characteristic of many self-inserts. True, in one chapter I mentioned that "Takara talks like I think," but that's because I'm a writer and my characters have to talk like I think. Otherwise where would their dialog come from?

So anyway, Takara is NOT ME. That's all I really wanted to make clear. Enjoy the chapter. (:

-o-

"How did _Gaara_-sama know the Council meeting was out?" I muttered, still backpedaling and shutting the door rapidly between us. "Unless he was—"

"Cheh, how did _you_ know where _Gaara-sama_ was?" Abura cut in. Though he emphasized the _you_, he merely forced more mocking into the four syllables of _Gaara-sama_ than should be humanly possible.

"I didn't, that was pure chance," I said dismissively, still trying to figure out Gaara's source of information. Abura's snort told me he didn't buy it. I looked up.

"What? Seriously, _what?_"

"How much more time can you spend with that… _cheh_."

"He's not a _cheh_, Abura, or else he'd be coming out of your mouth with every sentence. Anyway, I told him I was leaving, didn't I?"

"Ch—Probably so he could show up."

I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway so that Abura treaded on my heels. He didn't apologize either. I spun on him with a glare I hoped was fierce enough to quench fire, because it needed to.

"_Abura_. Wake up! We're not eight years old. We're endangering any and all missions we go on together with this stupid bickering. It's going to get another one of us killed." I kept my voice low and even; he flinched at the last word, but I had needed it to drive my point home. "So listen to me: Gaara is not coming on this mission. Gaara is my friend."

"Friend, cheh," he muttered almost inaudibly.

"_Gaara is my friend_. But he is not on my team"—yet—"and you are, and I want to fix us before there isn't enough glue. Okay? Is this a face that would lie to you?"

"Cheh."

"Once I would," I allowed. "But now? Remember? I promised. I don'" I swallowed the truth with only the slightest sour taste on my tongue as I spit out the lie. "I don't lie anymore."

He didn't agree, but he didn't retort or walk away, either, so I figured that was progress.

-o-

We ran into Chie-sensei around another corner or two, leaning against a wall with her arms folded, waiting for us. "Walk any louder, Takara-chan?" she asked wryly, which I found highly unfair since I walk softly naturally and it wasn't like Abura and I were yelling at each other. But I just mumbled, "Sorry, Sensei," and in the next breath, "Can I ask a favor?"

"Other than forgiving you for stomping like the devil was on your heels?"

I frowned at her. Never mind that we were in the house of a friend; I guess that wasn't good enough. Abura seemed pleased that I was getting chewed out, anyway, though he'd hardly been walking any quieter. "Can we have a mission?"

"All of us?"

"No, just _we_ we." Abura snickered. Boys. "Abura-kun and I. Something stupid like—"

"No shinobi mission is stupid, Takara-chan." If Abura cackled at me one more time, I was going to kick him.

"—Right. Er, something low priority, like a delivery to another village. Something with quiet time. We have… some issues to work out."

She regarded us steadily with guarded brown eyes for a minute, then sighed. "That you do. Come on, people, let's get you a scroll."

-o-

Ten minutes later we were equipped with a mission scroll and an intricate glass necklace, pretty but ultimately worthless in the eyes of anyone other than petty thieves. Glass leaves cupped a desert rose crystal; it was handmade by a retired shinobi who collected the crystals himself and crafted the glass with his chakra.

I wondered briefly what it would be like to wear pretty things, instead of black, black, black. I wondered even more briefly what it would be like to be a retired shinobi. One in thirty lived that long.

"How's Konoha?" Chie-sensei had asked.

Konoha. I wanted to go back to Konoha even less than I wanted to go back to Ame. Konoha was where my dreams of Abura going down in flames occurred. But why should that matter? Did I have a habit of prophetic dreams? No. So why should this one be any different? It was just my fear of losing another teammate leaking into my subconscious.

Still, it made me nervous. I didn't want to go back to Konoha.

"Konoha's great," I said. Chie-sensei gave me a look. I wondered long and hard how she always knew.

I wanted to say goodbye to Isane, but I had no desire to put myself back in range of Temari's wrath. Instead, I left a note with Chie-sensei—_We'll miss you, good luck_. I made Abura sign it, too, but it looked more like a tiny scorch mark than a name.

"Okay," I said with some trepidation, eyeing Abura in my peripheral vision. He glowered openly again, and I began to think that was his only expression these days. "This is it."

"This is an easy one, people," Chie-sensei said simply. "Don't lose anything important."

"Like our lives?"

"Like each other."

I tried to smile easily up at her, but my lips quivered. "Mama Bird-sensei sends her nestlings out for the first time."

"Just remember, Takara-chan, that only so many nestlings learn to fly."

I knew we were all thinking it—_Eiri didn't_—and I couldn't let that slide.

"Eiri-kun flew higher than any of us. We just need to catch up."

"As long as you don't have to fall to get there."

"I promise, Sensei. We'll fly with our feet on the ground."

Abura gave an unwilling snicker. I kicked him. He returned to glowering real fast.

-o-

Ten minutes into the desert and all I could think to say was, "It sure is hot."

"Cheh, no it isn't," Abura muttered back at me.

Okay, so it wasn't the scorchingest summer day, but it was still the desert. But of course it wasn't hot, not to him. Not to the boy who stood close while metal melted away into air. "Oh, right, the pyro doesn't think the sun is hot."

He kept his eyes steadily on the sand where he stepped, arms folded over his chest.

I'd heard once not to criticize the weather because without it, most people wouldn't be able to make conversation. Well, I was going to criticize the weather all I wanted now, because I still couldn't make conversation.

"Abura-kun," I said tentatively, working to keep the irritation out of my voice. "I can't do all the talking."

He actually looked up at me, which I took as an improvement. "Cheh. What do you want me to say?"

"What's wrong with us?"

"Ch—"

"I'm trying!" I burst out, though I should have let him speak—even if his only contribution was another _cheh_. "I know I messed up, I spent too much attention somewhere else, but Abura, you're my family but that doesn't make you my only friend! Isane-chan's not part of our squad, do I have to ignore her, too? Koma's not on our squad, does that mean I can't be friends with him either?" I paused. "Well, Koma's kind of a jerk so I don't want to be friends with him anyway. But do you see the point?"

"Koma didn't know Eiri."

"Sure Koma knew Eiri, he was in our year."

"Cheh, he was in _your_ year."

Sure, remind me that I'd failed my way into repeating a year. "Okay. But we were all genin at the same time."

"Eiri—"

He stopped talking. I stopped trying to think of every excuse to argue, to point out why Abura was wrong, and started trying to acknowledge that he was right.

"Okay. Eiri." I regarded the pyro steadily for a few seconds; he looked away. "I screwed up."

"Cheh, s'not about _you_."

"Sure could've fooled me, since I seem to be the one you're mad at all the time! Look, Abura, I know you're not much of a talker but you've got to give me _something_." I took a swig of water as a moment to think, a moment to bite back anger and fear. "I'm not trying to forget Eiri. But as far as I can tell, you think I am, and you're trying to do all my remembering for me."

A tiny spark at his fingertips, silence. I was getting desperate.

"I didn't bring backup, is that it? I should have checked? Shouldn't have rushed out to save Gaara without even looking?" The spark wavered, multiplied; tiny points of light waltzed in the only testament to Abura's agitation, and they were hardly visible beneath the glare of the desert sun.

"Come on!" I begged, running my hands frantically through hair that was badly in need of cutting. "Where's the Abura I know and love?"

"Cheh!" he said abruptly, sparks coalescing in his dangling palm and vanishing. "Love?"

"Duh. Family, remember? Yeah, I haven't been doing the best job, but I—Oh." I choked for a moment, head swimming. "Oh, tell me that's not it. Is that it?"

"Cheh," he muttered. "S'not what?"

"Abura, you're like my brother—"

His head snapped up so fast I thought his neck would crack. "What're you suggesting?" he demanded violently, tone so aggressive I believed—prayed—I must be wrong.

"Not—you're not?" I was so terrified I couldn't even get the words out, couldn't formulate the sentence. But he seemed determined to make me say it.

"Not _what?"_

"…in love…" I mumbled it so quietly I was surprised he could hear me, but I guess he figured it out.

"Cheh. Conceited much?" He rolled his smoky blue eyes and walked on through the desert heat.


	87. A Star

A/N: Yikes. If you read the blog ever, you'll notice that Takara and Abura were being whiny buttheads this month and I didn't want to write about them. I_ think_ I finally managed to kick them into a stage of slightly _less_ whininess, so let's hope for that. I'm really sorry these chapters are taking so long now. My creative spirit is being sapped by National Novel Writing Month—which, if you've been here a while, you'll remember is November, so you almost definitely won't have any more chapters until into December. I haven't even started the next chapter of _Sand Child_, so if you're waiting on that… keep waiting. I'm so sorry. I miss when I was good enough for you guys.

-o-

I tried to pretend I absolutely positively believed that Abura had shut down my every fear of his being in love with me. Mostly I just hoped because I was actually utterly terrified. He didn't exactly get more talkative afterwards, but he seemed less likely to burn my face off just for looking at him. Maybe he was trying to prove I had nothing to be afraid of. Maybe he was just as completely appalled at the idea as I was.

…Was I?

I beat that thought viciously out of my head and hurriedly tried to make conversation again. "So, Abura-kun, talked much to Isane-chan lately?"

He cast me a look that said he knew exactly where I was going with this. "Not much."

"Hm, you should more often…."

"Cheh, _you_ should."

"Oh, fine." I scowled at him. "Another thing I've done wrong. You know, this is supposed to be about us both fixing what's messed up, not just about me being wrong about everything. Stop accusing me."

"Fifteen minutes and you're already sick of me. Cheh, you should've thought about that."

"You're just being a grump-face."

"Cheh?"

"You heard me." I poked him in the side; his fingers flickered. "You're determined to make this loathsome because you don't want to admit I'm right."

"Cheh."

"I am going to punch you in the face."

"_Cheh_, like to see you try."

"Really?"

"I'll burn your hair off."

"You're too proud to walk around with a bald teammate."

"Cheh. I'll go home."

"Oh, Abura-kun, no you won't; you're a ninja, like me, with a mission we're doing a terrible job on that you don't want to abandon. Or at least, that you _won't_ abandon, whether or not you want to."

"I'm a better ninja than you," he muttered, and I rolled my eyes.

"Now I know you're just trying to make this hard, because you're really just grasping at straws."

-o-

A shadow drifted over the sand, testament to a rare cloud following in the wake of the sunset. Night was going to be a problem, I knew. Abura had been asleep less than twelve hours ago; I could ask him to keep first watch, but I wasn't sure if I could trust him alone in the dark. Not that there was much to set on fire here, so I guessed it couldn't be too bad.

At least I knew I wouldn't get cold. A tiny torch already wove through Abura's fingers like a frisky fire spirit, and the sun was barely kissing the horizon. I wouldn't need to expend any chakra to stay warm, but I wondered what toll that would take on Abura.

"Abura-kun, we should find a place to stop," I suggested, kicking up a cloud of sand and watching him out of the corner of my eye.

"Cheh, s'not even dark."

"But it will be soon."

"We'll stop then."

"No we won't."

"…Cheh?"

"Abura-kun, I can tell when you're lying to me." A lie; I could simply read the determination mixed with fear that sparked in his eyes. It was too sharp to miss. "You never want to quit, and that's great, but why can't you not-quit when we're saving someone's life, not when we're delivering a necklace to a village full of trees?"

"Fine," he snapped, kicking a divot into the sand and throwing a handful of flames at it. They dropped, flared, and flickered steadily. Darn, he'd grown powerful when I wasn't looking. I really did have to pay more attention. "We'll stop."

"Thank you," I said, no matter how grumpily he'd given in. It really was a bit early, with darkness not even fully across the sky, but I guess if I prolonged the trip a little it only gave us more time to work out whatever was screwed up with us. I flopped into the sand and stared into the fire, while Abura crossly did the same across from me. When our eyes accidentally met through the wispy flickering of flame, I dropped onto my back and watched the stars fade into view in a cloudless sky.

"Can you feel them?"

I rose up on one elbow again, shaking out the sand that had already gathered in my hair, waiting for an answer. Abura determinedly kept his gaze trained on his fiery creation, but this time I wanted him to meet my eyes. I stared for a moment longer, before realizing he might not talk if I forced him to make eye contact he didn't like. I slumped back down.

Success, though he was reluctant about it:

"Yes."

Even though I'd asked the question, I'd thought I'd known the response. The one he gave was not expected. Feel the stars? I thought about sitting up to look at him again but figured I'd get tired of bouncing back and forth eventually and stayed where I was.

"Really?"

"Cheh, lying's your specialty."

"Not anymore," I muttered.

"Right." He actually didn't sound skeptical, which surprised me, and made me feel the slightest bit guilty, too. "Yeah. Can feel the stars."

"But they're so far away."

He snorted. "Never would've guessed."

"Abura-kun, I bet you'd be chūnin at least if you took the Exams again." This time I did sit up, to make sure he knew I was sincere. "Your fire's burning without fuel? You can feel the heat of the stars?" I tried to quirk a smile at him. "Do you have secret ANBU ambitions?"

Finally, he pulled his gaze from the flames to stare at me. "Cheh."

"Seriously. I'm not lying. Or kidding."

He let the silence lie for a moment, and I tried to figure out if he was utterly incredulous or really wanted to ask a question. Now that I was back to lying, I was determined to be able to pick up visual cues again.

Question. It turned out to be a question:

"Cheh, what mask?"

I grinned. "Salamander, of course."

"Cheh!"

"What, you don't like salamanders? They live in fire, like you."

"Dragon."

My grin widened. "Dragon Mask. Salamander Mask. It's pretty tough…."

Shadows had covered the colors in the sky, leaving only black and stars and the rippling fire that danced shade over our faces. I edged closer to the warmth, feeling the onset of the chill, and wondered if Abura was ever cold. I opened my mouth to ask, but he cast me the sort of look that said I'd asked enough questions for the day. I hid a slight, giddy smile, unable to contain my delight at the fact that he hadn't yelled at me through the last conversation. Despite the 'no more questions' look, I couldn't help pushing my luck.

"How about Star Mask?"

"Cheh, that sounds ridiculous. Dragon Mask."

"Haha, you'll be a star nonetheless."

"_Cheh_."

"Too cheesy?" I snickered. "Dumb question. Sorry. Wake me when you're tired of the dark."

I heard another _cheh-_like sound, and took it for assent as I slid down into dreams that burned with blood and stars.

-o-

When Abura nudged me awake, nonchalantly digging his foot into my side, the only star left in the sky was the sun. I jerked into a sitting position, head nearly colliding with Abura's knee, and whipped sand into my eyes as I tried to shake myself back into awareness. "What—?"

Lucky ninja need to wake up in a hurry. I scraped sleep—and sand—from my vision, ran fingers through tousled hair—reflecting again that it needed a cut—and demanded, "Didn't you sleep at all?"

His expression was a mixture of glower, exhaustion, and 'I don't want to talk about it.' "Cheh, don't need it."

"Liar."

"Cheh, look who's talking."

"Will you stop calling me a liar? You made me stop."

He scowled deeper. "Cheh."

"Look, we can take a day, there's nothing urgent about this necklace. Abura-kun, you really need to sleep."

"Cheh, shinobi need to know how to go without sleep."

That brought me up short, because I couldn't think of a rebuttal. It was true, sure, but… I chewed on my lip for a moment and tried to come up with a reason that would make him sleep.

"Yeah, but you should get it when you can, because tomorrow night you might _have_ to stay awake, and the night after, and you'll have missed the rest you needed to get through the mission alive." I tried to keep the tentative slope out of my tone and sound like I wasn't just making this stuff up. Abura stared at me as if he couldn't figure out whether I was serious.

"Really, Abura-kun. I'll sit right here and watch the sand while you dream."

He flinched away from me, and I hesitated. "Cheh, waiting for G—"

"_No._" I fought not to give voice to irritation. "Waiting for you to get some rest. Come on. Please?"

Unenthusiastically, he walked back to the other side of the fire. The heat of the flames was too much combined with the heat of the desert, even with it being still early morning, but I didn't want to say anything. I just scooted back as far as I dared and watched Abura reluctantly lay down, back to me, stiff-spined and angry.

I didn't want to stare at him while he slept, but there was nothing else to do besides look at the sand drifting strangely in a nonexistent breeze. Probably I should have kept an eye out for enemies—what else is keeping watch for?—but instead I just watched Abura shiver in suppressed nightmares. He never really relaxed, even when sleep took over his anger.

I tried not to wonder what nightmares ravaged his dreams in the night. If this is how he slept in broad daylight beside a fire, no wonder he didn't want to sleep in the dark.


	88. A Dragon

A/N: …About time. I know. I know! It's been two and a half months and I don't know if any of you are still waiting out there.

But I finally found a place where I am motivated. As soon as I get back there… well, there's hope.

Hope you guys had a great Christmas, and happy New Year!

-o-

Though I'd slept the night through, the beating sun made me want a nap. I resisted the sleepiness weighing down my eyelids, as well as the urge to wrap Abura in a hug to still his nightmarish shaking. A sisterly hug.

I couldn't help but remember waiting for him to come down and eat his pancakes as the afternoon wore on. That wasn't going to work here. It wasn't like we could take turns sleeping night and day, with one of us carrying the other while we thrashed around in dreamland. I supposed I could wrench my sleep schedule out of whack so we rested and watched during the day and traveled at night, but that would take time.

Finally, and a bit reluctantly, I decided that if Abura wasn't awake by noon, I'd get him up. We couldn't just sit here under the midday sun; desert natives or not, we'd fry.

I didn't have to, though. It seemed Abura was determinedly clinging to sleep, refusing to give in to the nightmares that wracked his form. Or perhaps he was trapped, fighting to wake up.

Either way, a particularly violent shock wrenched him back into the daylight.

I froze, watching him tentatively across the fire. He lay sprawled on his back, gasping, staring at the sun.

"That's not good for your eyes," I said, forcing my voice to be casual. His gaze snapped toward me, smoky blue eyes wide and pale with terror.

"You'll go blind," I said calmly, though I faltered at the look on his face. His eyes seemed to focus in on me; his breathing slowed until he finally blinked and turned his face back to the sky.

Hesitantly, I began to crawl toward him, slogging through the sand. I was halfway around the fire when the ground erupted beneath me.

I hastily scuttled backwards, coughing dust out of my lungs and blinking it out of my eyes. I skidded in the shifting surface, rolling over and spinning to see Abura twisting himself briskly out of the way as if he had known the explosion was coming. A bulky figure stood silhouetted in the cloud; I peered at it, confused-was this Gaara? But no, it couldn't be...

Before I could make any further judgments, a rage of fire blasted over the intruder. I flinched, shielding my eyes. When I looked back, all that remained was the settling dust, a charred lump, and a handful of ashes floating away on the breeze.

I stared at the lump. I stared at Abura. Then I swallowed nervously. That was scary. That was scary as _hell_.

"Wow, Abura-kun," I said, forcing my voice to be calm. It definitely shook anyway. "I see you're of the 'torch and ask questions later' school of thought."

He sat up, eyeing his handiwork, or so I thought-then I realized he was just staring at the spot where his fire had gone out when the intruder dumped sand on it. "Cheh. Thought it was Gaara."

I froze in alarm, eyes wide in shock, until I caught the hint of the smug smile as he looked up at me through his bangs. That was _not_ a funny joke. "Well," I said, trying to pretend I thought it was, "next time you should save the torching for _after_ a long, slow chat about intentions."

"Cheh, you're not a very good shinobi, Takara-chan."

"At least I'm a decent human," I retorted.

"Saying I'm not human?"

"You're a dragon, Abura," I said. "Or a star. But either way, you're way beyond the rest of us."

He frowned at me, then stood up and kicked at the lump in the sand. Soot and ash flaked off it; I inched backwards a little bit more, having no desire to inhale scorched corpse. "Where's his squad?" Abura muttered, more to himself than me, which I took offense to. We were a team here, after all. "They don't travel alone."

"Sometimes they do," I said loudly, just to get his attention. When he raised an eyebrow at me, I said, "But probably around here somewhere. This one was hiding underground, so the rest probably are."

"Handy skill in the desert," Abura remarked. "No other cover but sand."

"Desert-born, you think?"

"Cheh, not Suna. They wouldn't try to stop their own village's mission."

"They could," I said thoughtfully, a thrill of apprehension curdling in my stomach. I didn't like what that could imply. This was a simple delivery of a simple, boring necklace. "How do you know they were trying to stop us? You've probably forgotten already, but you sort of killed him before we had time to ask."

He glared at me, and I shrugged innocently. "It's true. Anyway, there are no other major shinobi villages in the desert, so-"

"Cheh. Could be Suna," he conceded, and I blinked in surprise. "Why?"

"Don't know," I admitted. "Let's just keep moving. Get to the cover of the trees. Walk soft, his squadmates are probably hiding beneath us."

Abura folded his arms as I began kicking sand over the smoking corpse, giving it a sort of half burial. "Cheh, there's no way to tell where one of them is going to pop out."

"Well, unless you want to spread your dragon wings and fly us to Konoha-" He scowled at me, and I grinned slightly. "-just keep an eye out for weirdly moving sand, clouds of dust... There isn't much breeze, so the sand shouldn't curl around on its own. And if the sand is twisting around you, it's probably not Gaara. That's all I got, Abura-kun."

He hesitated a moment, as if he didn't want to agree with me, then nodded and started walking. I rubbed grit out of my eyes and followed him, eyeing his shadow pensively and tossing around an idea.

"Abura-kun," I said finally, "let me walk in your shadow."

He didn't even stop walking. "No."

"It's a good idea. We can't see them and they wouldn't be able to see me."

"Cheh, almost noon. Shadow's going away."

I glanced up. It was still about an hour and a half to noon. True, his shadow was getting shorter, but I had maybe an hour of decent hiding. I could use a little of my own shadow to stretch out Abura's, and as long as our potential pursuers didn't look too closely at the length to judge the time...

That prompted another line of thought. How _were_ they following us? Tunneling under the sand? Why wasn't the sand collapsing on top of them? That was an interesting jutsu they had going on. I wondered idly if I could get Gaara to learn it, but judging by Abura's overzealous attack on the last one, I doubted I would have the chance to learn how it worked to explain it to Gaara. Oh well.

"It'll be fine," I said.

"Cheh! You will _not_."

"What's this about now?" I said irritably. "We're wasting time. Don't want me following you? I'll be walking a little behind and a little to the side, so I won't be directly at your back anyway. Besides, Abura-kun, you have to trust me. I'm your teammate." He snorted, and I added quietly, "That's what this is all about."

"You're not walking in my shadow."

I sighed, and offered a sheepish grin. "You can't stop me," I said, and stepped back into the dark blotch on the sand.

Actually, this would only really work with his cooperation, as proved by his sudden spin and duck to the side. His shadow moved abruptly away from where I stood. I leapt after it, stretching the edges of the blob so I could keep up with it, but his movements were too unpredictable. The ends of my too-long hair tossed in and out of the small area of darkness; my heels flashed tellingly as I darted after his quick, frantic movements.

"Abura! Stop it!" I said furiously. He flinched away from my disembodied voice, stepping backwards but stilling his frenetic dance. I suddenly and unreasonably imagined what those movements would have been like with fire in his hands; a silky dance of flame slid through my head, jerky motions eliminated and deadly beauty replacing it. I quickly shook the image out of my head and crouched in the shadow of Abura as it edged away from me.

I stretched it as far as I could, until it was almost three quarters his height, and then let the jutsu snap. His shadow whipped back to its proper size, leaving me standing irritably in the sand, my arms crossed.

"I can keep up with you," I lied, "as I just proved by jumping around after your shadow. But I'd really rather not. Come on, Abura-kun, this will work so much better if you just walk. Tell me when you're going to move. Walk in tandem. It's not that hard!"

He stared stubbornly past my left shoulder. I narrowed my eyes and said quietly, "Abura-kun, I'm not going to stab you in the back."

He made a distressing _cheh_ sound which seemed to indicate he didn't believe me. I couldn't begin to fathom where this distrust came from, as I hadn't betrayed him before, had I? Maybe distrust wasn't the problem.

I wavered a moment, then stepped forward and set my hands on his shoulders. He flinched, and I followed suit, afraid that tiny motion was a prelude to me dying in a horrible rain of fire. I didn't, though, and after a moment, I opened my eyes and looked into his.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Don't stalk me."

I reined in a cringe and blinked back surprise. "I won't," I said seriously.

"I'm not like your precious demon."

"You're not."

"Cheh. I want to know where you are."

It took a great deal of effort to keep my hands in place. "You will," I promised. "Your shadow isn't going anywhere."


	89. A Trick

A/N: Hey, guys! NOT two and a half months after the last one! How impressive is that? Happy slightly belated new year. (:

If you haven't yet, please consider perusing the author's note at chapter 82 and choosing to draw a character for the project!

-o-

I thought for a moment, then said sheepishly, "Well, actually it is, because it's going to be noon soon and then you won't have much of a shadow at all." He cast me a look that was either complete and utter disgust for my incompetence or total disbelief that I would even say such a thing. Since I didn't know what I had done to deserve either, I couldn't begin to guess. I simply gave him a wary smile and said, "But we still have a little over an hour, and we can catch these sneaks."

Abura snorted and I expected him to say something about sneaks, but he didn't. He simply nodded, and I grinned.

"I need you to move casually," I said, taking a step closer. "Don't make any sudden movements. If you need to adjust more than a twitch, let me know, because if you step to the side to avoid a scorpion I don't see, this whole thing will be ruined."

"Cheh, everything's underground this time of day. Everything sane," he added in a mutter.

"You're implying that our enemies are saner than we are," I said cheerfully. "Abura-kun... One more thing."

"Cheh?"

"Don't torch the next person to attack us. I want to ask some questions first."

His fingers twitched nervously, but no sparks came to them. I watched him closely, but he made no disagreement, so I figured that would have to be good enough.

"Great," I said as brightly as possible, which may have turned out to be a little _too_ brightly, judging by his expression. "Face Konoha," I ordered lightly; he turned, but kept his gaze on me. I moved until I was standing in his shadow, short and pudgy with the high sun. Abura looked vaguely ill, which I couldn't begin to fathom, and turned his face away as I started to fade into the darkness at his feet.

"You'll still be able to hear me," I said as I wrapped the edges of his shadow around me, reveling in the cool shade it brought. "I'll still be here."

"Just don't get too attached," Abura muttered, and started walking before I was entirely gone.

-o-

I could tell it unnerved him, to have me invisible, on his heels, and in his tracks. It was easy: He flinched at every movement of the sand, every passing cloud, every stray shadow.

It took me a minute to realize that moving sand and stray shadows were the signs I needed to watch out for, indications of the enemies beneath our feet. I opened my mouth to warn Abura, only an instant before the fountain of gold showered out of the ground before him. Abura stopped dead, and I halted about a centimeter from collision. My mouth snapped shut again, teeth clicking audibly; Abura twitched, but the narrow boy wearing a long coat and a wild grin didn't hear anything.

Gold dust settled around the boy's feet; Abura's hands flickered up, cradling flame, and I drew a breath. But he contained it with a cage of his fingers, holding the torch as a warning but not a weapon.

"Oh, good," said our enemy, whose own fingers twisted almost manically through his lank grey hair. "I see that Riyuta already did get to your lovely friend! How perfectly delightful. Working on wearing her face now, I suppose she is."

I froze. My whole body stilled but for a shiver of panic, a wave of images coated in blood flickering behind my eyelids. Wearing faces? That had been Kansei. The Kansei-nin we had wiped out. This nightmare had ruled my nights for too long. Perhaps that's what it was now, a dream as I slept in the sands beneath the cold desert sky.

I told myself to wake up, but I didn't.

"Cheh, Kansei-nin?" Abura asked warily, voicing my fear, flames seeming to panic in his palm as they licked against the cage of his fingers. "Thought we got rid of you."

The boy waved his hand dismissively. "Hmph. I'm not from Kansei. Their technique is entirely different. A basic transformation will suffice here. We just need to get the details down."

What exactly did he expect this Riyuta had done? Grabbed me from behind and dragged me into the sand before Abura could react? More importantly, what did he expect Riyuta was doing _right now?_ Examining my corpse closely for every minor detail? I shuddered at the very thought. That wasn't a simple transformation jutsu, it was a jutsu meant for moles. Spies.

At least it wasn't like Kansei. I didn't entirely understand what was so different about it, but he said it was different from Kansei and I had to believe him or I would remember wagons of bones; I would remember Isane disappearing in a wave of sand before Gaara mentioned she was fake, I would remember the false Abura's bleeding corpse, I would remember the real Eiri dead and gone and burning away.

Already I was remembering. I felt my blood freezing in my veins and thought viciously, _It's not like Kansei._ Then, while the boy's hands began to move through a series of seals that would no doubt fight to take down Abura—a task he must have seen as easy, since the pyro by all appearances had no back-up; he clearly underestimated Abura's power, but then, who didn't these days?—I slid through my own quick sequence and caught him in a shaky shadow genjutsu.

He stiffened, watching inky black snakes slither across the sand and up his body, twining about his wrists and sinking their teeth into his skin. Without warning, Abura lurched forward, ripping the folds of his shadow away and leaving me exposed. The returning shock of the desert sun broke my hold over the jutsu that coiled around the enemy nin, but he escaped the shadowy snakes only to find himself bound in fiery ones.

For a moment, it seemed he believed these new bonds were also a genjutsu. Hesitantly, he moved against the slowly spinning rings of flame, then cried out when a black mark scorched across his sleeve, leaving a smear of charcoal over the skin beneath. That was no minor burn; even I, with no hint of medical jutsu whatsoever, could tell that it would fester and pulse with fire long after Abura had doused his flame.

That kid was brutal. With a shaky breath, I rose to my feet and moved to stand beside him.

Brutal, perhaps, but I was on his side. That power had undoubtedly saved my life, would undoubtedly do so again. That's what counted in the shinobi world. Your village first, your mission next, and after that, if you had time to think about it, your life. Since I was standing here with my enemy in chains he couldn't possibly escape—unless he had a water jutsu up his burnt sleeve, which was entirely possible, though it seemed earth jutsu was probably his forte—I felt I had time to consider my life.

And maybe your teammates came before your life after all.

The grey-haired boy seemed to consider this the fact, as the first words out of his mouth—after he finished wailing about the pain in his arm—were, "How could you possibly have escaped Riyuta?"

"Surprise attacks aren't a good idea with a twitchy pyromaniac on hand," I said quietly. The boy let out a slightly hysterical laugh that was vaguely unnerving.

"Riyuta, you've already finished your transformation, haven't you? You always were so quick. Stop playing tricks on me, you!"

Abura and I glanced at each other, my expression bewildered and his bordering on disgusted. "I'm not playing a trick," I assured the strange shinobi, turning my gaze back to him. "I…" Did I want him to hear it like this? I tried to imagine learning from my enemy's words that my teammate was dead. Then I thought, _He would have killed Abura_, and said, "Riyuta's dead."

The boy actually howled, causing both Abura and I to flinch violently in surprise. The enemy lurched, as if prepared to lunge through the spinning wheels of fire, but the memory of the pain and the pulsing black burn kept him back. "Riyuta! Stop it, that's not funny, that's not even funny!"

"How's it different from Kansei?" I asked abruptly, words slipping out on a tide of alarm that had been racing around my thoughts. Abura glanced at me, startled, but I leaned ever-so-slightly away from him and said, "Your jutsu. What makes it different?"

The boy laughed shortly, fingering the hems of his sleeves with nervous hysteria. "Kansei-nin, they were _good_. They got everything, you know, face, yeah, but also jutsus, memories, personalities. Other shinobi, they have to be good actors, get it right, study the details, but with bones and blood, the Kansei-nin got it right."

"They didn't have Isane's bones," I mumbled, hands unconsciously clutching at the fabric of my pants. The boy focused in on me.

"I don't know all the particulars, little girl," he told me, though he hardly seemed more than a year or two older than me, and not very much taller. "I am not a Kansei-nin, and if I knew how they did it, I would _do _it. But I bet it's more detailed when they have your bones."

They didn't have Eiri's bones. They were dead. They were all dead. Sunagakure's faithful weapons had wiped them out.

"Cheh, enough," Abura cut in. "What do you want?"

"Riyuta's dead?" said the boy, eyes darting between us. "You're sure, there can be no mistake."

"Why do you want to look like us?" Abura demanded, but I said, "No mistake."

The grey-haired boy in the long coat nodded once, then threw himself into the fire.


	90. A Sting

A/N: Still an hour left of Gaara's birthday~! (For me, anyway.) There isn't much I could do about putting Gaara in this chapter, but I tried. Happy Gaara's birthday!

-o-

"Abura! Put it out!" I screamed, instinctively lunging forward as if that could do me or the burning shinobi any good. But Abura seemed too shocked to move, and he never had been able to put out his fire quickly.

"_ABURA!_ Put it out, we _need to know_ what he wants!"

"Cheh, nothing anymore," Abura muttered, and though I rounded on him furiously, his fires burned too brightly for there to be anything left of the grey-haired shinobi boy.

Abura stretched out a shaking hand and gathered the spinning fire into his fingers, pulling the hoops apart and raveling them like flaming tinsel. The fire writhed in his grip, danced up his arms, and seemed to sink into his skin.

I gave him a glance, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the second smoldering corpse in two days. My mouth hung half open, trying to form words—but there were no words for this.

"We—we'll just have to keep an eye out for his last teammate," I faltered, dragging my eyes back to Abura, who was watching sparks flicker over his upturned hands.

"Didn't expect that," the pyro said hoarsely, gaze trained on the dancing lights.

I swallowed. "Neither did I," I mumbled. "Whatever his purpose was, must've been dire. We..." I paused, breath caught in my throat for a fraction of a second. "...We just have to make sure to capture the last one alive."

Abura nodded, and finally looked at me. He didn't say anything, but I moved closer and stood in the remains of his shadow, fading away.

-o-

When I could, once noon had come and gone, I continued to walk in Abura's footsteps, shadow stretched upward to cloak me. After a while, he seemed to grow more comfortable with me behind him; we couldn't talk, as that would defeat the purpose of hiding, but his movements were less jerky, his muscles less tense. He didn't flinch to the side, risking the exposure of my corners. Both of us remained wary, searching the rolling expanses of sand for signs of the third enemy nin, but we at least allowed ourselves to breathe.

The distant forest finally drew nearer on the horizon; we wouldn't make it before night fell, but we would be in it tomorrow for certain. A day's travel through the trees and we'd be in Konoha. I considered urging us on faster, now that these new opponents had made themselves known, but this was still supposed to be an straightforward, trouble-free mission. Maybe it no longer was, but I was determined to keep it relaxed as long as I could. Enough sleep, easy dreams. I _would_ make it happen.

So when night drew itself over the sky, finally, I stepped out of Abura's shadow and told him to stop. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned.

"What if there were only two?" I asked quietly, looking up into his eyes through a fringe of hair. "Two of us, two of them?"

"Cheh, s'pose we're watching for nothing, then," he said, with a considerate shrug, and I was surprised he didn't argue with me.

"Right," I murmured. "But... well, I guess shinobi always have to be alert."

"Then I guess it's not for nothing," Abura said, and dropped a handful of fire into the sand.

"I'm taking first watch," I insisted, folding my arms and daring him to argue with _that_. He didn't, which I almost found alarming. I tried to find it encouraging instead. He simply gave me a cursory glare and stretched out beside the flickering, fuelless flames. With a twist of his hand, he drew the conflagration over him like a blanket; I eyed it nervously, wondering what would happen if he rolled into it during the night. Perhaps its protection would ward away the nightmares, keep him from thrashing. Perhaps he couldn't help but want to burn.

It occurred to me, as I sank to the sand and turned my gaze outward, that I should worry. He had to be using chakra at an disturbing rate with all this fire dancing around.

"You should be careful, Abura-kun," I said softly, not turning around. "Or you'll run out."

"Cheh," he mumbled, half-asleep already and I found that unsettling—but he hadn't really slept well earlier in the day, distressed by nightmares of unknowable horrors. "Run out of what?"

"Fire," I said.

"Cheh," he repeated. "Can't run out of fire."

I disagreed, but nothing came out of my mouth to try and prove him wrong. I just hoped he was right.

I couldn't bring myself to like the idea of Abura in the dark.

-o-

After some hesitation, I woke Abura halfway through the night, hoping the stars would be bright enough for him. He sat up, his fire cradled about him like a cloak; nervous, but cold, I curled up only a few inches away from his glowing garment. The flames stilled, almost frozen, as I moved in close; they were still warm, but they no longer danced. I glanced up at Abura; his eyes caught the firelight, smokey-blue reflecting red and gold, and I couldn't read them.

When I slept, I thought I would dream of smoke and fire and Abura, but I didn't. The crimson and gold of the fire twisted and sank into my thoughts as a whirl of sand and blood and scarlet hair.

I dreamed of Gaara.

I followed him through a cave peppered with stalactites bearing tiny fairy castles, carrying a cake made just for him; but the faster I ran, the farther behind I fell, though he always moved at the same, plodding pace. I moved to the edge of the cave and found lava waiting there, impossibly, and when I turned, Gaara stood behind me, looming, still as a statue. The lava behind me bubbled, looped, and twisted into the air, and the fairies swarmed from their stone dwellings; heat unfolded across my face and a thousand fairies turned to wasps whose stings aimed for Gaara, devouring his hands, eating into his eyes.

Abura kicked sand into my face, which wasn't very nice, but I woke to find that the heat on my face was only the sun shifting into the sky. I coughed and sat up; he mumbled an apology, something about not meaning to—which I chose to take as sincere, and graciously accepted. Scrubbing sleep and sand from my eyes, I spoke some standard words of greeting—presumably "good morning"—after I offered clemency, but I couldn't shake the haunting image of Gaara's seafoam gaze disappearing, ravaged by the wasps' hungry stings.

At least I couldn't worry about that actually _happening_. I was having enough worries about dreams right now without considering fairies that lived in stalactites turning into wasps and invading Suna. I just needed to get Abura through Konoha, prove that I did _not_ have prophetic dreams—and I _didn't_—and maybe stop... eating before I slept. Not that I had eaten anything the night before, but isn't that what people always say when weird dreams are involved?

Breakfast consisted of dry ninja rations, not much different than the sand Abura had kicked at me, and then we headed for the trees. Abura didn't seem too happy about it—and I wasn't either, I wanted to _talk_ to him, since that was the _point_ here—but he let me walk in his shadow once again. That was where I stayed, until we hit forest and I slid into the dappled pattern of sun on leaves on grass.

"I want to say there were only two," I said, leaning against a tree and sucking in the cool, shaded breeze. A slight shiver touched my arms; I briefly considered standing close to Abura, who radiated heat, then quickly shook off the idea. After walking under the desert sun for two days, this breeze was _nice_. I liked the slightly cooler air. I liked it a lot.

I made a face and sank a little deeper into the chill shade as Abura said, "Cheh, can't." His head turned slightly, his eyes flitting surreptitiously sideways as if he were trying to figure out where I was now that I was no longer behind him.

"I know," I sighed, letting the shadows slip slightly so that he could see a faded-out ghost of me. This seemed to unnerve him more than not being able to see me at all, so I pulled the darkness back. "As soon as we're not looking, that's when the ambush comes." I sighed again. "Abura-kun, this was supposed to be _easy_."

"Cheh. Not my fault it's not."

"Yeah, I know, just don't shift the blame to me again." I resisted sliding invisibly down the tree until I was sitting in the summer grass. It was still slightly dry and stiff here, with the hot desert wind blowing in, but it was infinitely cooler and softer than the rolling dunes.

"Just hope they didn't hear that conversation," Abura muttered.

"Sorry, Abura-kun. I can't stay silent forever."

"Cheh," he snorted. "That's what shinobi are for."


	91. A Confession

A/N: Today, my fine friends, is the three-year anniversary of _The Obsession_. On January 29, 2008, I posted the first chapter of both _Sand Child_ and this very tale. THREE YEARS. It seems so _long_. Three years, eighty-five chapters (plus author notes and interludes), 1147 reviews. Wow. I never would have thought it would come so far. O:

Love you all, my beautiful readers and reviewers! I keep forging on for you!

-o-

We had one more day of silence, as we slipped through the trees like ghosts and waited for Konoha to come into view. Every once in a while, a flash caught my eye and I turned my head to see a leaf caught by the breeze go up in flame. I bit down on several squeaky protests, terrified Abura would set the forest on fire again.

Not again, I supposed. The last time, he'd kept control. He'd saved Gaara and Isane and I and the trees.

I liked to think he had better control this time, now, six months later—oh sands, was it only six months? I could have sworn there were lifetimes between then and now—but the casual way he was tossing around fire scared me. Still scared me.

"Abura-kun," I said suddenly, stepping swiftly out of a shadow and startling him. "Does it bother you that I'm afraid of you?"

He stopped dead, hand shaking violently with a pinwheel of fire. "Cheh," he said, voice cold and quavering. "Supposed to be hiding. Be quiet."

"This mission is about us," I said firmly, ignoring the danger warning going off in my head that said a shinobi had to know how to _prioritize_, and the priority was always the mission. "Not about them. I really, really, really don't want to ask it again."

"Cheh." He stood stock still, staring past me even when I moved around to stand in front of him.

"Abura," I said softly, folding my arms and looking up into his blank, frozen-ember eyes. "Does it bother you?"

"No." I hid my surprise with a passive, expectant expression. Lying even without any words.

"It doesn't?"

"No," he said again, teeth gritted together. "Because—_cheh_."

I waited. I waited even though his own fire seemed to boil up in my stomach, raging through my throat and screaming for the rest of that sentence. I wanted to demand, repeat, _shake him_ until he continued. But I waited.

And finally, when I thought I would soon start shaking with the anxiety roiling within me, Kuraho Abura muttered, with a final _cheh_, "Because I'm also scared of you."

-o-

Mad at me, not mad at me; loving me, not loving me—he wouldn't admit to anything except that he was scared of me.

That had to say something about me.

Trouble was, I didn't know what.

"_Why_," I forced out, choking on words that trembled violently in my throat, "the _hell_—me?"

His eyes, smoldering embers under a smoke-blue haze, flicked to me and held my gaze. He really didn't want to explain, I could tell. But I didn't know if he loved me, I didn't know if he hated me, I didn't know if he blamed me for Eiri—I could only guess at these things. I _did_ know that he was afraid and by the sands, I was going to find out why.

"Abura."

"I can't see you," he said. "Don't know where you are, what you're doing. Cheh, could be dead or walked off or ready to stab me in the back."

"Do you think I _could_?" I asked.

"Don't _know_," he emphasized, and I wondered suddenly, irrelevantly, when he had forgotten how to talk in complete sentences. Except he remembered, it seemed, when he was scared: "Cheh, you could bring an army down on us in there without anybody ready."

"I could not," I said hotly, and realized immediately that I didn't know that. As I said it, though, the glassy shell over his eyes cracked; his brow furrowed, and his gaze shifted slightly to the right of mine.

"Could drag me down, Takara," he said. "Your world is—cheh, s'cold and black, and mine—" His fingers danced upward, dragging trails of light through the air. "—isn't."

Hesitantly, I put a hand on his shoulder, nearly flinching away from the thundering heat pulsing under his skin. Terror, or his chakra roiling for release?

"Don't worry, Abura-kun. I'll never leave you in the dark."

Immediately, I thought of Gaara, who might be placed on our team, who might take Isane away, and I thought of how Abura didn't know. Lie after lie just slid off my lips; it was a wonder I'd ever stopped.

I should tell him.

I _had _to tell him, one way or the other. But I didn't know if this was exactly the right moment to come clean.

We stood in silence, neither of us quite looking at the other, and then finally, I decided that it wasn't. I would wait, until his veins weren't pulsing with fire and fear, until I could look him in the eye again.

I knew what I was about to say was a bad idea, but I said it anyway.

"I'm going to walk next to you," I said. "I'm not going to touch your shadow. I'm not going to hide." I looked at my hands, just for somewhere to put my eyes. "And if we meet the third squadmate, we'll just have to take him together."

Abura said, "Cheh," in assent, and I said, "But it has to go both ways."

He winced as I looked up again, eyes turned half-shiftily to the side so he didn't have to meet my stare. "Abura," I said. "I'm _terrified._ Maybe you have control, but you're burning it up at—at an alarming rate." I faltered. "Please, just… put it out."

Nothing. No _cheh_, no denial, no scowl or even consent. Just a statue-still pyromaniac who started to shake as I watched.

And then the sparks racing over his arms sank into his skin.

His fingers twitched, very slightly; he stilled them with a visible effort and looked at me. "Let's get to Konoha," I said. "Before the whole forest comes tumbling down on our heads and neither one of us is prepared to deal with it."

-o-

"What's your favorite color?" I asked, and Abura gave me a look like I'd chosen a different language. "Favorite food?" I suggested, and he narrowed his eyes, though I half expected him to say 'burnt pancakes.' "Favorite flower," I finally said, exasperated. His right hand flicked upward; a tiny flame, shaped like a torched blossom, wisped into the air and just as quickly disappeared. His hand dropped, and I sighed.

"These are the kinds of things I have to _know_, Abura-kun." But apparently he didn't want to share.

The gates of Konoha finally loomed into sight, and a thrill of anxiety crept up and down my spine. So many things that could happen here. One thing in particular I was afraid of.

I wouldn't let it happen. We'd be in and out, dropping off this pretty bauble necklace and on our way for a nice, leisurely stroll back to Suna, where Abura and I would sort out what made us afraid and be a team again. For real.

Sometimes it amused me how much I thought I could control my environment.

We got inside with a wave of our mission scroll, and were swept into the bustling crowd of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

"Everyone seems so much _happier_ than in Suna," I said to Abura, pushing my way through a mob of determined shoppers and ducking past a popular ramen stand before someone spilled food on me. On second thought, I took a few steps back and said, "Lunch, Abura-kun?"

I immediately realized my mistake: in and out, I wanted in and out. Luckily, he didn't seem particularly inclined to stay, so I forced a smile and tried to decipher the directions on the mission scroll. "We're looking for Zadan," I informed Abura, and he stepped to the side and quietly asked a young woman the way.

I blinked in surprise, that _Abura_ of all people had opened his mouth to ask, but the girl's directions were a lot clearer than the ones written our scroll. We were knocking on Zadan's door in no time—in my case, still hazy with confusion. Well, hey, if Abura wanted to take initiative and also get us out of here faster—if he wanted to look like he _cared_ about the mission—I could only be happy about that.

Zadan was an old man, stooped and wrinkled with long white hair and a rush of chakra still burbling under his skin. I could feel it rippling and wondered—was he still shinobi? White-haired and bent with the weight of his burdens, had he not retired yet? I'd think that if he made it this far, he would have been happy to leave the life behind.

Apparently not. I greeted him cheerfully, and Abura gave a nod of respect; I held up the mission scroll and explained why we were here. Zadan made a strange, fluttering motion with his knotted hands, and then invited us in.

He offered tea; I said I didn't want to be rude, but we needed to be on our way. He nodded and said, in a voice young and strong and heavy, "But I'm afraid I must keep ya a little longer. Yer mission is not quite finished. This necklace has to go to my brother and then come back to me."

I resisted the urge to ask why he couldn't just go see his own brother. "I'm sorry," I said as sincerely as I could manage, "but that's not in our mission parameters."

He unfurled our scroll and indicated the place where it said we had to do with the necklace what Zadan told us. I had assumed that would be giving it to him, or perhaps quickly delivering it to a lady-friend on the way out.

No such luck.

"Alright," I said, trying to keep the sigh out of my voice. "Where might we find your brother?"


	92. A Facade

A/N: …hey. Remember me? I haven't a clue how many of you decided to wait out that four-month disappearance. But, my darlings, I return. My first year of college was fabulous, but it didn't leave much time for writing. Now I have a busy summer ahead of me, but I'd like—if I can—to work a little bit each day on bringing these stories back into the light.

This chapter here, it's pretty awful. I had to drag it out of me; I'm not in the Takara zone just yet. But I will be. Just have a little more patience, guys, and hopefully I can make you proud again.

Missing you all,

Desert . Moon

-o-

Zadan gestured for the necklace to be handed over; he examined it perfunctorily, then returned it, gave us directions, and sent us back out the door with another strange fluttering motion of his hands, almost desperate. It turns out his brother only lived two streets away, which I found more annoying than suspicious. Who couldn't walk two streets to visit his own brother?

Perhaps his age limited his movement, but brimming so thickly with chakra, I would peg him as still being active. I guess it wasn't my job to question the mission parameters, but I was watching Abura like a hawk, and he was starting to notice. I could hope he was putting it down to my general worry, but I was keeping an eye out for any hint of fire. I wanted to leave.

Now.

I was half bouncing, half shaking by the time Zadan's brother opened his door. He looked only slightly younger, but his chakra pulsed so strongly that I nearly fell backwards as the door swung back.

I hurriedly introduced us, swallowing the knot in my throat that wanted to demand he skip his own introductions, do whatever he needed to do, and give me back the pretty little trinket so I could toss it to Zadan and _leave_. Leave while the leaves were still green and not scorched black by an out of control pyromaniac.

Zadan's brother—he did decide to skip his own introduction after all—gave us a skeptical stare. I twitched anxiously, feeling a quick burst of chakra pulse over me—probably checking for lies or jutsus—and gritting my teeth against the extra few seconds that took. At long last, without ever saying a word, the elder man held out his hand for the necklace; I practically threw it at him, earning myself an unimpressed glare, and he disappeared behind a door to our left without ever saying a word.

I blinked, mouth half open, then stared at Abura in confusion. He gave me an unconcerned shrug and leaned against the wall. Stiffly, pretending to be casual, I did the same, though behind my back, my fingers dug splinters from the wood.

Okay. I was taking this way too seriously. It was a _dream_. I had no reason to believe it was real.

I inhaled sharply; Abura shot me an odd look, but I ignored him, forcing my hands to relax. Breathing steadily, I tried not to stare at the door through which Zadan's brother would surely return soon, letting us finally get out—no. Through which Zadan's brother would probably return eventually, since we had to go back and see his brother again anyway.

"Going to take some time to see Shihai this trip, Abura-kun?" I asked, stonily nonchalant, imposing casual conversation on myself.

"Cheh," said Abura, "I thought you wanted to leave."

I half-shrugged, all I could manage with my tightened muscles. "Sure, but if you want, we can stay a little longer." I twitched a smile. "She'd probably cheer you up."

Abura offered a hard-eyed stare which made me wonder what exactly I'd missed with Shihai and I let the topic drop. After a few strained seconds, our mission returned, dangling from gnarled fingers with a new sparkle.

"Just a final finish," Zadan's brother grated, eyes light with a tired smile. I accepted the proffered jewelry, even pausing to admire it long enough that I felt the tiny thrill tingling in my fingers as I held something so beautiful.

Then I got over it. I said something appropriately courteous and pleasant and practically dragged Abura out the door.

I wanted to run back to Zadan's, vault rooftops to get us gone, but Abura seemed perfectly happy to take the streets at a walk. Then again, he hadn't seen his brother going up in flames in a long-distant dream.

On the other hand, he'd probably seen his brother going up in flames in a dream every night since Eiri's funeral.

I slowed down, letting my paces match Abura's casual steps. If he was going to relax wandering the wood-enclosed roads of Konoha, well, I was going to encourage it. I had to stop making my own nightmares more important than his.

Zadan met us at the door with those fluttery hands that gave him the air of someone much younger, more uncertain. I carefully handed over the necklace, navigated the necessary closing details of the mission, and had just about backed away when Abura unexpectedly and inexplicably shoved his way into the house.

"NO," I said very loudly. The section of my thoughts that wasn't confused and clueless just wanted Abura to leave whatever had drawn him inside for Konoha to deal with. The confused and clueless sections caught up soon after, adding a stream of, "What are you doing?" and "Abura-kun, come _back_."

He completely failed to listen. Of course.

I followed him. Of course. Zadan had spun after my teammate, reaching out a twisted hand to grab Abura's shoulder, and was not free to stop me from also entering the building. Abura fought the old man's grip, sparking slightly; I hesitated in indecision, then felt what Abura must have felt seconds earlier.

Chakra surged over me, well-masked but too strong to remain entirely hidden by any method forever. It had slumbered well-enough the first time we'd been here, but now it pulsed against its façade, the chakra of more than just Zadan's vitality. The chakra of more than one shinobi. Many more than one.

I couldn't tell, though—for all I knew, they were Konoha shinobi gathered in Zadan's basement for tea. Abura had no right to be barging into this house and putting himself in danger. So far, Zadan's tight grip and angry expression were consistent with a young whippersnapper like Abura trespassing. So if I could just make him let go and get my teammate out, we could leave Konoha and _everything would be okay._

Yeah. Right.

Zadan clutched tighter at Abura's shoulder, digging warped nails into fishnet and flesh. Abura's hands spat fire, flashing upward at the old man. On instinct, while Zadan was distracted by flames darting at his face, I lunged forward and snatched the dangling necklace back from his other hand.

He spun, sparks scorching the ends of his thin hair, reaching for me as I skipped backwards. Abura wrenched himself free, doors splintered, chakra swelled, and I was in hell.

Flames pitched like a stormy sea as shinobi—definitely not from Konoha—flung themselves into the fray. Abura darted through his conflagration, shoving me backwards and out the door. I didn't care, as long as he was coming out with me—and I was trying to plan on the fly, figure out what to do with this necklace, but the best idea seemed to be chuck it and get out of Konoha before we were blamed for this. Whatever _this_ was, besides a disaster of fire and fear.

"_Abura_," I said forcefully, but he simply pushed me hard into the street and leapt to the side against a wall as ninja skittered out of Zadan's flaming house. They surrounded him, and I watched with terror as his only option was up.

I opened my mouth to protest, found myself surrounded as well, and forced my attention to my own attackers as Abura jumped for the roof, fire twisting at his feet like hungry dogs begging for attention from their master.


	93. A Burn

A/N: To those of you waiting on _Sand Child_, I'm working on it. Unfortunately, that point-of-view is taking a good deal more effort to slide myself back into. :/ Plus, I'm super behind on replying to reviews again—and by super behind, I mean_ super_ behind. Like, from back in January. Heh. Sorry.

Oh, and this one's for Sil.

-o-

Terrified thoughts, images of Abura going down in flames, chased themselves around my head like the colors of his fire, snapping at my attention when it started to wander back to the problem at hand: the shinobi surrounding me. Blades caught the reflections of waltzing flame and I knew I didn't have time to think as the Shadow Possession Jutsu flung itself at my attackers—but there were too many, and the last time I'd possessed this many all at once, I'd been too weak to hold them.

And Eiri had died to save us.

But I was _better_ now. I'd grown, and this time, I had Abura to protect. If I had to go down to bring him back alive, so be it.

Of course, I didn't intend to let that happen. As badly as I didn't want him to die, I also didn't want him to lose two teammates in such a short span.

Oh. And I didn't really want to die either.

I didn't have Shikamaru's genius with the Shadow Possession, but I did have adrenaline pulsing panic through my veins. Spurred on by this poor substitute for strategy, I flung my arms out and performed an odd sort of pirouette; my circle of attackers followed suit, possessed fists colliding with their teammates' heads. Those who had kunai out slit their friends' throats, cut out their squadmates' eyes, by virtue of an uncontrolled swing. I tried not to think of the sheer horror of watching your friends die by your own hands and concentrated on holding the remaining shinobi. Dead or dizzy, I'd left most of them—enough to escape and go after Abura.

I began to launch myself over the swerving enemies, only to feel the loosely-held chain of the desert rose necklace sliding out of my hand.

Spinning, I saw that my adrenaline-fueled jutsu had not been strong enough to hold all the ninja behind me. Much the same as I'd taken the necklace from Zadan, it had been taken from me. Distracted by concern for Abura, I lunged halfheartedly. The thief, a ninja with lengthy red curls, had already slipped the chain around her neck, deftly-trained shinobi fingers locking the clasp with no difficulty.

I considered ripping it from where it hung between her collarbones, but decided its dubious beauty, despite being in the hands of a vain enemy ninja, was not as important as Abura. I turned—

And felt the shadows rip themselves away from me.

I didn't understand at first. A slippery, grating sensation ran through me, as if someone were ripping silk apart inside my head. I paused, off-balance, instinctively gathering up darkness to slide into and escape attention until I could discern what was going on.

But the shadows beneath my feet did not respond. At a loss, I turned back, to see snaking shades coiling at the redhead's fingertips. She gave me a wicked smirk, quirked her eyebrows, and threw the inky serpents to the ground, spinning her attention elsewhere.

I pivoted in time to see Abura's hands flash outward, grasping for flames that drew themselves away from his desperate control.

Wracked with indecision, I half turned, eyes locked on Abura as I flung myself toward the redhead. It was the necklace, it had to be. Zadan's brother's "final finish" had turned it from innocent piece of pretty to... something else. And this redheaded shinobi was using it to wrench control of our jutsus from us.

With my gaze still on Abura, my adversary easily avoided my desperate lunge. She skipped backwards, smug, hands twisting. I watched as flames hopped toward my teammate, licking at his skin like excited puppies turned to ravenous hounds. The conflagration flared brighter, and I knew that Abura was always holding back to maintain control—but the redheaded enemy didn't need to hold back, because the more out-of-control the fires raged, the worse for us. She, out of range of the scorching tongues, could simply release her snatched power as soon as it devoured too furiously for Abura to regain.

Vermillion snapped to azure and white tipped with crimson—an ember rainbow darting across Abura's form. I saw him go down, consumed by his own best friends, his own worst enemies. Hissing a restrained cry of alarm, and raced toward the roof as the ninja scattered. I vaguely noticed Konoha _hitai-ate_ joining the fray, noted the redhead vanishing with the necklace and a grin and the headband of a village I would soon be visiting—and burning to the ground.

In Abura's honor.

For now, I just needed to see if my pyromaniac brother was alive beneath the blanket of incandescent heat that coiled over his body.

-o-

Some uncomprehending Konoha-nin actually tried to stop me from dashing into the flames to drag Abura free. I fought against the stranger's grip, unable to reach my kunai holster and resorting to my teeth, but whoever it was didn't let go—though let out an irritated cry that betrayed gender. I scrabbled against her arm for a few more seconds before gathering my thoughts enough to stuff chakra into my shadow and slide through flesh and bone.

I tossed a quick glance back, just enough to catch sight of Sakura's rose hair as she reflexively grabbed for me, then nearly lunged into the fire. As the heat grazed my face, I recoiled, thinking abruptly—inexplicably—_friendly fire isn't._

Grinding my teeth—and once again ducking out of the way of Sakura's exasperated snatch—I formed a plan that couldn't possibly work and settled into a crouch. Now that I was still, Sakura finally latched back onto my shoulder, but I ignored her; as long as she didn't start dragging me backward for another few seconds, it wouldn't be too much of a distraction.

From the way her grip tightened, I could tell that waiting a few more seconds was not high on her list of priorities. I kicked backwards, awkwardly; while she let go and stumbled backwards, I hurriedly gathered up my remaining threads of chakra and used them to chase the fire-dancing shadows down. Finally grasping a lengthy enough patch of shade to do what I wanted, I began to force it through the flame.

It shouldn't have been possible; the shadows fought their very hardest to make it not _be_ possible as I shoved darkness into burning light and expected it to forge on. Shade shredded in the grasp of my chakra; the burns backlashed through my chakra pathways, scorching at my veins, threatening to scald every thought out of my consciousness. Gritting my teeth, I pressed it forward, until the Shadow Possession locked onto Abura's prone form—and I prayed not dead, because it seemed reasonable that this technique would work even more easily on dead bodies, as there would be no sentience to force the possession out, and these shadows caught without complaint. Now Sakura was back with someone else—might have been Rock Lee, but I was concentrating elsewhere—and they both had a death grip on my arms, but I got my feet under me and watched the burning body drag itself toward us as I was hauled backwards from the fire.

I felt immediately certain—as I watched that blistered form, alight with wings of flame, shamble out of the ravenous conflagration—that the image would haunt my dreams until the dust covered my corpse. But if it saved Abura, I would deal with any nightmare the world wanted to throw at me.

The blaze had stopped spreading, reined in by a handful of other Konoha-nin. As soon as Abura—what had been Abura when the fire was still his friend—stepped gracelessly through the border of the flames, I released the scorching remains of the jutsu, gasping for breath against the pain. The blackened figure collapsed. Sakura released me, darting toward him with hands already glowing; her friend caught me when I tried to dive for Abura and blacked out instead.


	94. A Relief

A/N: Hey, y'all! I must apologize—I've been utterly atrocious about replying to any of my reviews, PMs, anything. Don't worry, I promise I read all of them, and _will_ reply. However, my attention span for screens is a bit on the fritz lately, haha.

In the meantime, here's a bit of fanart (and a fanfic) I'd like to direct your attention to!

http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6956232/1/Guilt

http:/koneko156(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Takara-chan-211450308

http:/pseudoschizoid(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/quot-Not-Yet-quot-211239470

http:/pseudoschizoid(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Battle-Takara-211356458

Thanks to all you fabulous talents who take the time to tribute my humble tale. I really can't express my appreciation enough. (:

-o-

I woke up feeling exhausted and raw, with the thought that I hadn't had a good faint in a long time, as well as the niggling sensation that there was something I desperately needed to be worried about. As soon as I remembered, the name sprung from my throat, a sharp cry of "Abura!" as I sat up in bed.

A bandaged hand gently pressed me back down as a voice enthusiastically proclaimed, "He will be alright!"

I focused in on Rock Lee just as Sakura bustled by, looking harried, her arms full of bandages and a pair of medic-nin on her heels. From this I gathered that she'd been training as a medic since I'd been to Konoha last, but a healer-in-training didn't strike me as being good enough to take care of Abura in his blackened state.

_Unless he's beyond the help of the healer_. I wouldn't have let the thought in, except that the rose-haired kunoichi scowled and said, "You shouldn't lie to her, Lee," as she hurried on past.

I felt my throat freeze up and whispered, "Is he dead?"

"No," Lee assured me, but since he'd apparently been lying the first time, I wasn't inclined to believe him.

"Are you lying?" I demanded urgently, gathering fistfuls of blanket in hands clawed with tension. "Sakura said not to."

"I swear by the power of youth that I am not lying!" This seemed a rather odd thing to swear on, but since both of us—and Abura—were relatively young (unless you counted the number of people we'd killed, and then you'd have to raise our ages by a couple decades), I supposed it sufficed as an oath.

"But he won't be okay?" I asked anxiously.

Sakura reappeared, in possession of somewhat fewer bandages. "We don't know," she said matter-of-factly. "An hour ago, he was lucky to be breathing." She stuck her hands on her hips and looked straightforward, not letting her shoulders sag despite the weariness of chakra-drain I could discern around her ragged edges. "Now he can open his eyes—though he hasn't, at least not for more'n a few seconds."

A few seconds, I thought savagely, is much better than not at all.

"He's badly blistered, he'll probably never talk again"—that was alright, Abura'd never talked much in the first place, right?—"he may never walk again, and his chakra pathways are seared. Almost irreversibly." Her eyes narrowed slightly into a glare; I presumed—or hoped, rather—that her anger was not directed at me.

"Lady Tsunade is doing her best, but he might not be a ninja ever again."

"And that is how I know he will be alright," interjected Lee confidently. "They also told me I would never walk or be a shinobi again! I think it is something they say to make you feel you've overcome a greater challenge."

"Not everyone is as hard a worker as you, Lee," Sakura said wearily. "And not everyone gets as lucky."

No, I didn't think Abura and luck were great friends as of late. But I thought he could probably work hard, if he tried.

"Can I see him?" I demanded, throwing off hospital-bed sheets and scrambling to my feet before Lee could restrain me again. "I'm seeing him."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at me, then said, "Fine. But you can't talk to him, he's still in surgery. And I'm too tired to seal up your chakra, but you fought your jutsu through chakra-saturated fire and your chakra lines are severely burned, so _don't use your chakra._" The glare she gave me could have added a new layer of burns; I wasn't going to fight it. I nodded hastily and she gestured for me to follow her.

We stopped at a closed door that Sakura eased open after a hurried seal to unlock it, motioning it for me to look through. She gave me a severe look when I started to ease in, so apparently I wasn't allowed inside—reasonable, as the Hokage herself worked in that room, accompanied by a handful of bustling orderlies and nurses and the like, all trying to save my teammate. I didn't really want to disturb them—but I did want to be closer to Abura.

Jagged stripes of black and red zigzagged across his visible skin. It was a considerable improvement from the blackened lump of flesh he had been before, but I wondered how many of those would be indelible scars. I wondered if he would think—if he ever woke up—they were cool, complements to the fiery tattoo across his palm.

I wondered, just briefly, shuddering to think, whether he would wake to hate the sight of fire. I knew I never wanted to see so much as a candle again, but the tongues of flame didn't run in my veins as they naturally did his. Fire was in his blood, in his heart—but what if he wanted it out?

He wouldn't, though. I just took it as something to consider while I watched Lady Tsunade twist chakra across his form.

I backed out of the doorway, nearly treading on Sakura's foot, and leaned back against the wall, sliding to the ground while the rose-haired kunoichi hovered over me. Abruptly, I was reminded very forcefully of another time I'd been in this hospital, against a wall—listening to Gaara spill his life to Shikamaru and Naruto. It occurred to me that I didn't know much about Abura's life outside of the squad—I knew his mother, round and warm and kind; I knew his father lived somewhere else and sent birthday gifts on the wrong day. But where somewhere else? And why?

I wondered if Abura would tell me, when he woke up.

And then, quite suddenly, like a blow to the head, it hit me: Abura was alive.

I had dreamed that Abura died, but I had dreamed falsely. Not only did that prove that I was _not_ having inexplicable prophetic dreams—and thus did not have to worry about Gaara being attacked by stalactite-dwelling fairy-wasps, or whatever they had been—but it meant that _Abura was alive_.

I had worried for nothing. Well—not for nothing. Abura was still in danger—even if he survived, the fire might be out of his reach. If he couldn't use chakra anymore, how would he control the flames? But there was one key fact among all the uncertainties surrounding his condition, one thing that—for the moment—was absolutely sure:

Abura was _alive_.

I let out an abrupt gust of breath and held back the relieved tears that pricked at my eyes.

An urgent voice called Sakura's name, and she hurried around me into the room. I leaned my head back against the wall and did my best to relax and trust Abura's fate to the Hokage's—and her student's—capable hands.

-o-

Half an hour later, Lady Tsunade exited the room, leaving the door ajar behind her. I don't think she even saw me, but I scrambled to my feet, demanding once again, "Can I see him?"

She turned tired eyes on me. "You are his teammate," she recognized, then paused to consider me. "He hasn't woken up."

I swallowed a lump of fear. "Not at all?"

"No. But I am confident he will." The Hokage leaned against the wall on the other side of the door, folding her arms and regarding me steadily, if wearily. I could hear Sakura and the orderlies moving about the room behind her, perhaps adding the finishing touches to keep Abura alive. I nearly flung myself into that room, but she was, after all, the Hokage, and it didn't seem right to hurtle out of a conversation with her without being dismissed.

"Can I see him anyway?" I hazarded.

She nodded, but added before I wrenched open the door, "After, have Sakura escort you to speak with me. We must discuss the details of the attack and the completion of your mission."

Oh, _that_ was what I wanted to hear. Because this mission hadn't caused me enough trouble.

I swallowed these sentiments, nodded, and slipped into Abura's room.


	95. A Silence

A/N: Hey, guys! I plan to include some more canon characters in the next chapter; to this end, I would (perhaps unnecessarily) like to reread the entire series of _Naruto_ before I write it, in order to regain a feel for their personalities—and hopefully as well to gather up more inspiration for this and _Sand Child_, which I'm still struggling with. So this is just to alert you that the next chapter might be a bit delayed in that regard. (:

This is chapter 89, so there are ten chapters remaining for the all-character project…. If you haven't, please consider visiting what is posted as chapter 82 and joining in! Feel free to take as many characters as you want; there are no limits. Chie-sensei and Kimimaro have been reopened, though the project page does not yet reflect that.

And in the meantime, one more lovely piece of fanart!

Pseudoschizoid(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Elite-Takara-213402757

-o-

I stood beside Abura, ignoring somewhat irritated glances from some of the nurses and pitying ones from others. My vision wavered slightly, just enough that I couldn't whether Abura looked better or worse. Some of his burns had faded, leaving his face pale and his arms crisscrossed with faint red and white blotches. One jagged scar remained clear around his wrist, black, as if the skin had simply died beneath the burns and only shadow could bandage it. Dark scratches of scorchmarks stained his eyelids, as if he had tried to imitate Gaara by applying eyeshadow with a series of twigs.

"We're lucky we could save his eyes," remarked a nurse softly. "We thought he might go blind."

I swallowed hard at the thought of Abura, blind, living his entire life in the dark.

The Hokage expected me, but she hadn't given me a time limit, and I didn't want Abura to wake up surrounded by strangers. I hovered over him until someone was kind enough to bring me a chair, then sat there as the hours passed, reflecting that each minute I delayed seeing Tsunade gave the people who had done this more time to escape.

It didn't matter. I would follow them to their home however long I let them run.

I moved toward the window and, when no one stopped me, drew back the curtains to let the sunset settle its dying rays over Abura's battered face. Maybe not the happiest omen, but it was better than the stifling darkness.

I wished I had a candle to light at his bedside, but it seemed too funereal—and I had a vague feeling that the nurses, orderlies, attendants—etc.—wouldn't approve. In the time it took me to flout this disapproval and locate a candle, he might awake alone.

Abruptly, Abura shot up in bed. He moved more quickly than I would have thought possible in his state, so quickly I expected to see sparks blurring in his wake like the tail of a comet. His hands twisted upward, clawing at the air, trying to rend fire from empty space. But I knew with certainty that his chakra had been sealed off, leaving him powerless. Maybe it was best I hadn't found him a candle; he might have set the hospital alight around us.

We were the only two in the room; I jumped to my feet to try and press him back down. He wore a hospital gown that slit at the front; it had fallen open when he'd moved, and I lay my hands against his bare chest to push him to his pillows.

Abura always exuded warmth, as if living flame replaced the blood sliding through his veins. But today his skin was cold, almost icy to the touch. Along with that, thin red lines crossed over his chest, as if he had been wearing metal instead of fishnet; here and there, black filaments laced the red, as if the fishnet threads had melted into his flesh.

I didn't know anything about medicine, but these injuries—scars—didn't seem quite natural. I supposed chakra fire did unnatural things.

Abura fought me, pale-fire scarred fingers scrabbling at my arms. He hadn't opened his eyes, keeping them squeezed shut like he was afraid of what he'd see—or what he wouldn't.

"Abura," I hissed, trying to keep it calm so I didn't bring any nurses running. I was sure they'd be stunningly helpful—and probably also knock him back out so I didn't have a chance to talk to him.

His frantic motions faltered at the sound of my voice; I said his name again, gently but rather loudly, so he'd hear. He hesitated, and I said softly, "They said they saved your eyes."

He clutched at my wrists and opened his burn-shadowed eyes, drawing in ragged, painful breaths. His jaw worked, lips moving to form my name, but only a harsh gurgle hissed forth. I closed my own eyes, biting my lip. "They didn't say they saved your voice," I whispered.

He let out a strangled sound that might once have been a "cheh" and slumped back to the bed.

"It still might come back," I said hastily, but he ignored me, eyes shut again. His chest rose and fell erratically, struggling to draw in breath through lungs seared with fire.

"Abura," I whispered, "still come back."

But he was asleep, I thought, and a nurse now entered the room. She checked his pulse—did some other things I couldn't fathom—told me it was good that he'd woken up, hopeful, but he might now sleep for days. I thought it was time to go see the Hokage.

-o-

"Iwagakure," I said stiffly.

"Are you sure?"

I had just finished relating the details of the battle and the encounters with the shinobi preceding it. I'd considered lying—for lying's sake, to see if I could get away with it to the Hokage herself—but lies wouldn't get me help in tracking down Abura's attackers.

"Am I sure about the symbol on the _hitai-ate_ of the shinobi who stole my ninjutsu and used that of my partner to turn him into a lump of barely-breathing charcoal and scars? Yes." I swallowed, then added meekly, "Lady Hokage."

She steepled her fingers across her desk, gave me a look that said she's caught my cheek but was letting it slide this time, and pointed out, "You said the shinobi in the desert did not have a visible forehead protector. Why would those in the village itself make it so easy to identify themselves? It might be a false trail, to lay blame."

I took a moment to refrain from grinding my teeth in frustration. "It might," I allowed, and hated that I didn't know. The time it took to confirm might mean their escape after all.

"In the desert, they used some sort of earth technique to hide underground," I reminded her.

"Evidence toward Stone Village, yes."

_Evidence_. I wanted it to be fact. I wanted to burn down a village, and I wanted to do it _now_.

It occurred to me that Iwagakure wouldn't burn. How could I set the stone alight?

Fine. I'd just do something nasty to that red-headed shinobi who'd stolen my shadow and Abura's fire.

"I'll go, then, on an intelligence-gathering mission," I suggested. "Find out if it was really them."

"And if I do not see that as a risk worth taking?"

"With all due respect," I began, because I heard that's what you say when you're about to be rude to people of much, much higher authority than yourself, "I am not one of your ninja. I am a shinobi of Sunagakure. I answer to the Kazekage, and in his absence"—as if he weren't dead in the ground and well deserving of it—"to the Council. Not to you."

It seemed likely that as a mere genin, I should probably do whatever the hell any Kage told me to. But I wasn't going to sit around waiting for politics to decide how I got my revenge.

And really, I didn't know what the relationship between Konoha and Iwa was like—or even, for that matter, the relationship between Suna and Iwa—but I could guess that half Tsunade's reluctance came from just that. Politics.

The Hokage massaged her temples as if I were driving nails into her skull. "Tell me you can wait," she said.

"Yes," I lied immediately. "…Wait for what?"

"It's too late now to catch the fleeing shinobi. Your state and that of your teammate left you unable to give us any information for a full day; the trail has gone cold. If you're right about Iwagakure, we know where to send a team to retrieve the artifact that was stolen. Another day will therefore do no harm, so wait until I conference and I will attempt to spare some of my shinobi to accompany you. The artifact does, after all, belong in Konoha now—and was stolen in Konoha—some of our own must go to bring it back."

"Fine," I said, shifting uneasily. A day. A day to wait if I wanted help.

Well, if I decided I couldn't wait…. I was a liar, after all.


	96. A Bridge

I wanted, wildly, to send a message to Gaara. I could have used his help for this undoubtedly, and he was so painfully far away. But I knew Abura would never forgive me if I let _Gaara_ avenge him, and something told me I couldn't risk interrupting whatever Gaara was learning at home—while he spent time with his actual _family_.

I made up my mind to wait at least two days before hightailing it to Iwa. Meandering the streets of Konoha the next day, I located some market stalls and resupplied. Dependent on Abura, I didn't usually carry much for lighting a fire, but this time, I picked up a flint and steel and stocked up on matches. It wouldn't hurt to get used to using these anyway, just in case.

In case Rock Lee was wrong. In case Abura wasn't going to be alright.

I honestly expected the Hokage's deliberations with her Council to take a week, though I'd given myself a short deadline in the hopes that they'd hurry up and decide on something. To my surprise, the summons to the Hokage's office came the morning after that, while I still slept. Hauling myself from the bed in an apartment generously paid for by Konoha, I scrubbed sleep from my face and stumbled after the Hokage's messenger. I was probably muttering darkly to myself the whole walk there, but I had decided that if the Hokage wanted me to look neat and presentable for a meeting, she could summon me at a decent hour.

It wasn't really that early, but I'd been up late playing with matches and their flickering shadows. I was terrified I was going to burn down my borrowed apartment, but I needed to practice both using Abura's substitute fire and manipulating its flighty shades.

Tsunade eyed me with nothing resembling confidence and proceeded to tell me that she could provide a small handful of Konoha shinobi to assist me in my revenge—well, assist me in retrieving the necklace, but I heard it as revenge. I restrained a grin, which turned out to be the right choice, since she added the condition that I would have to wait one week until they could receive the proper intelligence confirming that Iwagakure was indeed the correct target.

Then she asked me if I could do that.

I said, "Lady Hokage, I'm just glad to not have to take on all those ninja by myself. I can definitely wait for help."

After she dismissed me, I packed up my supplies and left for Iwa.

-o-

It took me a full week to get there. I could have gone faster, but I would have had to sacrifice some stealth, and I didn't want to make my route too obvious to the Konoha shinobi who would not doubt, eventually, follow me—with all the wrath of their Hokage behind them. I could have been stealthier, also avoiding whatever shinobi Iwa sent to make sure no one was on their trail, but if I took much longer, I might as well have waited for Tsunade's intelligence.

My jutsu suited spywork anyway. She could wait for _my_ intelligence.

I had left Abura a note, in case he woke up again. I'd tried hanging around, just for an hour, to tell him myself, but the nurse had said days, and I'd made up my mind not to waste days. It worried me, at first, that the nurses would find the note in his pocket, but after all, the Hokage would know exactly where I'd gone when they couldn't find me.

_Abura_, it said, _I'm off to stab that redhead for you. I expect to hear you cheh-ing my irresponsibility when I get back._ And as an afterthought—_Not Gaara. The redhead who tried to steal your eyes, your voice, your fire. You better not let her succeed. –Takara_

-o-

I'd gotten really damn lucky and latched onto a group of Iwa shinobi as I moved into the mountains. Not so lucky as to have them be the shinobi I was after, but I wasn't used to the terrain, nor did I have a map. I could follow them back to their village and right inside.

Unfortunately, I also wasn't used to the altitude, and spent a couple days trying to quiet my heavy breathing while I struggled to keep up. Judging by their campfire conversations, they were returning from a difficult mission with injuries, allowing them to take it slow.

I wondered which particular luck god I'd attracted the attention of, and if perhaps I could send him Abura's way after I was done in Iwa.

Shadowing—literally—the Iwa ninja was a constant strain on my chakra, so by the time I stepped among the range of towers and bridges, I was both out of breath and low on energy. I had no idea where the redheaded thief lived, let alone her name, so I had planned to simple follow my injured team. Undoubtedly, the place they reported would be the place I would find files, and files would include pictures, names, and addresses.

Not that I would be able to navigate this village even if I had an address, but I would—once again literally—cross that bridge when I came to it.

I couldn't follow my guides easily, because the narrow bridges between spiraling towers left little room for hiding in the shadows. If I tried to cling to the edges, I would undoubtedly find myself shortly plummeting to my doom.

Alright, fine. I guessed that the Kage and all his files would be in the tallest tower; it was time to see if I could reverse my sneaky stalker powers and hide in plain sight.

Nervously, I removed my _hitai-ate_ and tucked it into my pack, pulling out instead an embroidered grey overshirt that would serve the dual purpose of keeping me warmer—it was cold in the mountains—and making me look more like a 'normal person' who wasn't wandering around in suspicious black. Then I set off for a casual stroll toward revenge.

Both terror and exhilaration chased themselves around my heart as I crossed bridges higher in the air than I had ever imagined being. I tried to ignore both, being on a mission to set someone on fire.

I mean, retrieve Konoha's magical necklace.

Whatever.

Security was bound to be tight around the tower itself; I would have preferred to approach it invisibly, but there was just no way I was going to edge over a bridge wrapped in shadow. It couldn't work.

I wished I had a fake Iwagakure headband. I suspected that would get me in, and made a mental note to start procuring forged _hitai-ate_ if I planned to keep up this spying thing. I preferred to work unseen, true, but as here, that wasn't always possible.

Finally, determinedly, I meandered over the bridge to the Kage's tower. I wandered around it, looking for a place to hide, but guarded shinobi watched me suspiciously from every point of the circle; if I disappeared, they would notice. Casually, I strolled to the bridge on the other side and, depressingly, walked _away_ from my destination again.

Turning, I gazed at the looming tower, so close and yet without any real hope of approaching. I had options, I knew—and I didn't fancy them. The surfaces of the bridges were illuminated by the clear sun, with hardly any shadows to cradle me; even if I could manage to hide well enough, the first person to walk across behind me would trip and probably send us both plummeting over the edge. I didn't know about the Iwagakure folk, but I couldn't fly.

On the other hand, the underside of the bridge was all dark, and permanently unoccupied. I felt reasonably certain I had enough chakra; I couldn't begin to fathom whether I had enough control.

I thought about Abura, struggling to breathe. I felt chakra surge into my hands; backtracking to the shade side of the smaller tower whose roof I occupied, I faded away.

Then, chakra rippling in fingers and feet, I slid carefully down the stone and attached myself to the dark underside of the bridge to the Tsuchikage's tower.


	97. A Crossing

Of course, with the sun shining at an angle rather than full noon above, only half the underside was actually in shadow. This meant that I only had half the already narrow span to move through. I couldn't quite keep to it, not all the way, but I somehow doubted that anyone noticed the occasional weird bulge to the shade below the bridge.

The world spun dizzyingly out beneath me, but I kept my eyes on the solid stone above me. And when I say solid, I don't really mean that: the bridges were constructed to be flexible, presumably to discourage the sort of thing I was doing just now. The first time someone crossed the bridge over me, rocking it disconcertingly, I nearly lost all control and let my chakra slide away.

I flashed back into view as I forced chakra into my hands instead of my shadow, more concerned with staying alive than staying hidden. Clinging desperately, I stabilized, darkened again.

Then I nearly threw up, but I thought someone might notice regurgitated food plummeting through their village. Closing my eyes and resisting the urge to gibber in panic, I reined myself back into control.

Slowly, I finished crossing. I crawled off the bridge, pressed myself against the wall of the Kage's tower, and breathed deeply for several long, terror-twisted minutes. Intentionally, I avoided thinking about how I was going to get _back_ across. Another bridge I'd cross when I came to it, though I hoped to all the gods of sand that I would be crossing it on the proper side this time.

Once inside, I moved in a slow, shadowy circle throughout the tower, pressing myself invisibly against unguarded doors and sinking into shade until I could see through the stone. I guessed the room filled with file cabinets and a bored, sleepy-looking boy behind a desk would probably have the information I wanted.

At this point, my low chakra was starting to resist my pull, ruling out leaving the same way I came. I teased out enough to fall through the door and crouched in the shadow of a potted plant while I contemplated the file clerk.

No use making things more complicated than they needed to be. I crept around his desk and knocked him out with a stone paperweight I'd slipped off his workspace. Not hard enough to kill, not when I didn't need to. Hopefully I hadn't even given him a concussion, though it seemed likely.

Since there was no one left to observe me, I dropped my guise of shadows and began rifling through the file cabinets, tossing useless papers on the floor behind me. Several cabinets had only foreign shinobi; I abandoned those at once until I found one filled with the Iwagakure ninja files.

Whereas the occasional foreigner file had been missing images, these _all_ had photos. They weren't complete files—those would be under better guard, preventing enemies from stealing the secrets of Iwagakure's shinobi—but they were complete enough for _me_, who had no interest in taking intel on jutsu back home. The Council might praise me for it, but that wasn't my mission right now. If they wanted that stuff later, they could send me back with a new store of chakra and a team behind me.

At last I found her, the smug redheaded shinobi thief, smirking up at me from her photo. Karakusa Arasi. She _was _Iwagakure. I glared down at the picture, then tore out the section with her address. I scanned the rest of the file for useful information, but there wasn't any that helped _me_, so I dumped it on the pile with the rest of the useless files.

Then I torched the whole lot, just out of spite. Well, mostly out of spite; partly to prevent anyone from knowing who exactly I was after. I saw how Abura could love this, but I was too scared of being out of control. Shadows are tranquil and still. Fire never stops moving.

I vanished again and left the room, hurrying on before anyone noticed the fire. Feeling my chakra thin, I faded back into existence with a crowd of passing genin, joining them and trying to look innocent until I could find a door out.

Spotting one, I ducked out of the crowd and exited, forcing myself back into that casual stroll as I headed for the bridge. I counted on the guards not caring about people who were leaving—they hopefully assumed that whoever guarded the other door had checked me on the way in—and thanked the gods of luck as no one stopped me crossing the bridge on the proper topside.

Having no actual idea how addresses were laid out in this village—there were no real streets, after all—I wandered around, nonchalantly searching for road signs or _something_. I had almost worked out the system when my luck changed: I spotted three Konoha _hitai-ate_ striding determinedly toward me.

One belonged to Ino. The other two looked vaguely familiar, probably from the Chūnin Exams; I didn't stop to puzzle them out. I scuttled sideways around a tower and pressed myself into the shadows of a curving stone wall.

To my distress, they seemed to have no trouble following me. I prodded my chakra uncertainly, wondering if my jutsu wasn't working—but not, I was clearly hidden. Nonetheless, the boy with the long brown hair walked straight toward me, latched onto my sleeve, and hauled me out of the shade.

"Tell me how you did that," I demanded irritably.

The boy in the concealing coat murmured quietly, "You're almost as good as a bug at hiding in the corners," at which point I finally remembered him as Shino. The brunet—who still had a good hold on my overshirt—looked impatient, irritation turning down the corners of his mouth. I noticed his eyes were blank and pale; veins stood out at his temples.

"But my eyes are better at finding," he said with annoyance, which sort of did and mostly did not explain everything.

"Um… what are you doing here?" I asked, trying for an air of unconcern and sounding a bit sheepish instead. "I thought you had to wait a week before doing anything…."

Ino reached over and yanked my sleeve out of the pale-eyed brunet's grasp. "The Hokage knew she could justify sending us in if a potential enemy-nin went in first. Couldn't let Suna get ahold of that necklace."

"Or you could wait," finished Shino, "as she suspected you would not, and we would be no worse off. However, your impatience has allowed us to expedite the process considerably."

So I hadn't _quite_ successfully lied to the Hokage. Darn. Oh well. I was out of practice, after all.

"Great," I said brightly. "I have the address of the thief, but I dunno how to navigate this place."

"My team came here on a mission once," said Shino.

"That's hardly enough to give you a layout of the place," Ino snorted. "Neji has a map."

"Handy," I said approvingly as he drew it out of his pack. I reached to take it, but he glared me back; I scowled and rattled off the address.

The three of them didn't bother taking off their Konoha _hitai-ate_ as they walked; I trailed slightly behind them, trying not to look like I was part of their group. Konoha shinobi in Iwagakure probably didn't have any business going anywhere but the Kage's tower to report their presence; I didn't want to be caught up in any trouble they attracted. Every once in a while, I gave the leaf symbols sideways glances, as some of the Iwa citizens did, trying to look equally wary.

We finally located the place; Neji took one look at it with his wide pale eyes and said, "It's not here." I eyed him with a touch of jealousy; that was certainly a useful power. I could use the shadows for eyes, but I still had to _look_. "Neither is she."

"Okay," I said cheerily, laying a hand on the cool stone door. "I'll wait here. You go onto the Kage's tower, it's that big one over there." I jerked my head in the proper direction, as if it weren't obvious. "She'll have turned in the necklace anyway."

"Then why d'you want to stay here?" Ino asked pointedly.

"I'll interrogate her," I lied pleasantly, "in case she does come back."

"I will wait with you," offered Shino. "To help."

"Sorry, Shino," I said, not in the least bit sorry. They were too late to help me with much of anything, except finding Arasi's house; the revenge bit was my own. "You can't hide quite as effectively as I can." I gave him a somewhat feral grin. "I'll be quite safe, I promise. You go get that necklace, which is your mission anyway."

"Do you have it?" Neji demanded abruptly.

I frowned at him. "You can clearly see with your fancy eyes that I do not."

"Then why do you want us to leave without you so intently?"

"My teammate is in the hospital," I said, voice abruptly cold, and I think they understood the truth. They turned on the narrow ledge of the stone tower, brushing against me as they made their way back to the nearest bridge. I waited until they were gone, then faded through the door and settled into a corner to wait.

Ten minutes later, to my savage delight, Karakusa Arasi _did_ show up. I leapt to my feet, dropping the shadows as she startled.

"Hello," I said cheerfully. I really had been counting on her having turned in the necklace already, and so made the unfortunate choice to taunt her about facing me on her own footing this time—without Abura's fire. "Where's your magic necklace?"

"Right here," she said smugly, recovering with ease, tugging it out from beneath her collar.

Silently, I offered some choice swear words to the desert gods as I felt my shadows pulled from underneath me like a carpet abruptly yanked away.


	98. A Recovery

A/N: Your opinion please—

This is chapter 92. That leaves seven until 99, when the characters for the mass drawing are all supposed to be compiled in celebration of chapter 100. However, there are still a great many characters unspoken for, and only one person has given a completed drawing of a character. I highly doubt we're going to have anywhere close to all the characters by chapter 99. So what do you guys think? Should we compile the few we have? Postpone the project? I don't see this story reaching 200 chapters, but there are other milestones, I suppose. Or just quit it entirely? Let's hear your thoughts.

-o-

I snatched at my chakra, but my jutsu spiraled away from me still. Gritting my teeth, I armed myself for combat without chakra—three shuriken in one hand and a kunai in the other. But shadows were clawing their way up my torso, stuffing themselves down my throat, as if I had swallowed black cats and snakes. I choked, thrashing, then realized—_use my own genjutsu against _me_, will you?_

My kunai slashed, aiming not for the smothering shadows this time but for my own hand. I nicked one of my fingers, enough to wake me, and the slithering dark fell away.

Lights flashed before my eyes, until I realized it was fire dancing through the air. She'd _kept_ it, caught Abura's fire and taken it away in her stolen necklace? She could use the flames while Abura lay abed in silence, fighting a passive battle for breath?

My weapons clattered to the floor; my wooden katana was in my hands an instant later. Not much good for cutting, but excellent for beating about the head and shoulders—and anything else I could reach, really.

At that moment, the stone door exploded. I dove to the side, ducking shards of rock not entirely successfully. I coughed dust, wiping a trickle of blood off my arm and feeling the tickle of shredded fishnet as my Konoha entourage crowded through the door.

"What're you doing here?" I snapped out.

"I placed an insect on you to alert me if your chakra was agitated, indicating you were battling."

I resisted the urge to do a frantic dance and shake the bug out of my clothes. "Great, thanks," I muttered, watching Arasi—who had been bombarded by a greater percentage of her door than I had—haul herself back to her feet, bleeding slightly. Her stolen fires had winked out, but I doubted they would be gone long.

"Don't complain," Ino said cheerily. "Where would you be if he hadn't?"

"Engaged in battle, rather than just talking about it," I grumbled.

A swarm of Shino's insects soared toward Arasi as she recovered, only to be fried to crisps that pattered to the ground. "By the way, she steals jutsu," I added, watching with my arms folded.

"Yes, we were briefed on the artifact's abilities," Neji said dismissively as Ino knelt, apparently setting herself to wait for an opportunity. "That is not a problem for Shino."

"The insects respond to my chakra," he explained, sending another roiling black wave toward Arasi's stolen slashing fire. The cloud twisted to avoid the flames—then looped around and rushed straight back toward Shino.

He seemed to be fighting to regain control, and finally ducked aside at the last second. I couldn't tell easily through his bulky coat, but he appeared to be breathing heavily, as if he'd done more than stand and wave some bugs around in the past few minutes. I dove to the side, into the shadows, as the insects swept past Shino and into a hemisphere of chakra that abruptly surrounded Neji as he spun.

I watched the bugs die and reflected that she apparently stole chakra, too. That would probably make things difficult.

Or it would if she could find me.

I stopped paying attention to what the Konoha shinobi were doing. Not teamwork at its best, I knew; but I wasn't interested in teamwork, I was interested in revenge, and in achieving it without being seriously injured. Instead, I let them distract her while I scuttled along the wall like a venomous spider, hoping Arasi was sufficiently preoccupied so as to have forgotten about me.

I paused in the shadows beside her, watching Neji block off her chakra and watching her steal it right back from him with her purloined necklace. Then, with a detached, savage part of my mind wishing my wood practice katana had a blade that could relieve Arasi of her head, I swung the weapon at the redheaded thief as I sprung from the darkness.

She hadn't forgotten me—or perhaps had never lost track of me, if she'd kept her stolen power with an eye in the shadows. My wooden blade was gone in an instant, incinerated by Abura's fire as I skidded sideways. No matter—I'd planned for this. She stole chakra, yes, and jutsu; if I used neither, I was at less than a disadvantage. And while I'd never been exactly _talented_ at aiming, the weaponsmaster on my team had taught me a thing or two before he'd died.

A handful of shuriken spun toward Arasi's face. She couldn't incinerate _those_—and if she tried, she'd simply have a battalion of blistering metal flying at her eyes. I counted on her not having had time to steal much jutsu since I'd fought her—which turned out to be a poor decision on my part, as a glittering shield of chakra swept like a comet in front of the shuriken, deflecting them. Briefly I wondered if she even had any jutsu of her own, but the thought was gone in the wake of my kunai, thrown directly behind the shuriken. She mistakenly let the shield fall—its glimmering expanse had the unfortunate detriment of blocking her view—and barely had time to dodge to the side to avoid the kunai.

Several skidded by her shoulder, shredding cloth and flesh. Not only that, she had ducked into a cloud of Shino's hungry bugs. I allowed myself a small triumphant smile and pushed forward, a new handful of blades in my grasp. Shades twined around my feet, tripping me; as I went down, I slashed outward, dragging a kunai across her stomach.

She pressed a hand to the shallow gash and hissed at me, waving off Shino's swarm with the other hand, momentarily distracted enough to stand still—which is when Ino's jutsu swept from nowhere and caught her fast.

I didn't recognize it at first, then realized Arasi wasn't moving. Neji stepped forward to retrieve the necklace, but I leapt forward and snagged it first, yanking it with an anger-driven force. The chain snapped, and I tossed the recovered jewelry to the Hyuuga, who looked irritated but caught it easily.

"Was that necessary?"

"Yes," I said, lying or not.

"Back up."

I obeyed, and Neji did something rather too quickly for me to see. Whatever it was, it seemed to drain Arasi of her chakra, dropping her into unconsciousness.

"You don't need her as a hostage, do you?" I asked, eyeing her still form, that savage part of me now considering cremation. I wouldn't give in to it, but I still might burn all her things, just because she deserved it.

Ino shook her head. "This is all very informal," she said. "They don't admit they stole it and we don't admit we stole it back."

Ah, the carefree joys of espionage and the life of a shinobi. Nobody trusts anybody, making it so much easier to avoid such petty things as courtesy and honesty. "Great," I said. "Do you need me? I have my own mission here."

I can tell this didn't fool them; they already knew that I had an agenda against Arasi. I supposed it might suffice as revenge that she would most likely be in serious trouble when she woke up, for not turning in the necklace right away and then losing it back to those from whom she had stolen it, but it wasn't a _poetic_ justice. It had no… _fire_ to it.

Good thing I had never been much of a poet, because they didn't let me stay. Maybe they considered it—maybe they thought about what they would want if it was their own teammate near death. I wondered if Neji had any kind of desire for revenge against Gaara, for driving Lee so close to extinction during the Chūnin Exams. He didn't seem much the type.

One way or the other, I wasn't left alone in Arasi's house with her. Still, I might have dropped a surreptitiously-lit match on her dresser on the way out.


	99. A Seal

A/N: Well—this is posted as chapter one hundred. Never mind that it's really only chapter ninety-three—one hundred FF chapters is still kind of a major accomplishment, huh?

Don't worry, Gaara will be back soon. Any more thoughts on what I should do with this project? Unless I receive a flood of drawings soon, I doubt we're going to have near enough characters before the real chapter one hundred.

-o-

It was a week back to Konoha. Inside the gates, I tried to split off and head for the hospital, but Ino caught my arm and pulled me back. "You have to report to Lady Hokage as well," Neji informed me.

"Goody," I muttered.

Honestly, the encounter was not as difficult as I expected. She berated me a little for running off, but since it worked into her plans, I guess I was off the hook. Then I was free to go.

I used that freedom to visit Abura.

He was awake, and I think at first he didn't want to see me. Shame or fear, I don't know—but I fought my way into his room tooth and nail. More accurately, I dropped into the shadows and snuck past the nurses, because who needed the hassle. Those medic-nin can be _scary_.

I appeared inside the door and rested against the wall, waiting for him to acknowledge me. He stared determinedly at the ceiling—and finally, slowly, sat up.

He still wouldn't look at me, but I couldn't help myself. I moved over to the bed and enclosed him in a hug as tight as I would give any brother. Abura stiffened; his arms remained at his sides, hatched with shadow. I hesitated, then let go, realizing that I hadn't hugged anyone in… a long time.

"I set some stuff on fire," I said, forced casual. "It was pretty cool, Abura-kun."

His hand slashed the air; I flinched, then realized he wasn't attacking me—only fighting desperately to call a flame. Still no sparks followed his movements, but I didn't know if that was because his chakra remained sealed, or because he was yet too drained, his chakra lines seared.

At least he still wanted it. At least he wasn't afraid of it, I thought, not yet.

Uncertainly, I reached into my pack and pulled out a half-used book of matches. "Abura-kun," I said slowly, "do you promise not to set the hospital on fire?"

I knew that, now that I had these out, I would have to give them to him. To show him the possibility of fire and steal it away again would be more cruelty than I had in me. Still, I really didn't want him setting the hospital on fire. It might cause some problems later.

He lunged for the matches and I jerked back. "_Promise_, Abura-kun," I emphasized, a tiny note of pleading in my voice. "Only little fires, or the nurses will kill me for bringing this in here." Of course, they might do that anyway.

Abura gave a short nod, and I tossed him the goods. He had a match torn out and lit before I could blink, a tiny star of light held between his shaking, scorched fingers. It flared as he twisted it, devouring the splinter of wood and blinking out when it touched Abura's fingertips.

He lit the next and the next and the next, and I reflected that he had a terrifying addiction. Then the matches were gone, used up, and he looked at me desperately, almost angrily, and I lied when I told him I didn't have any more.

"Abura-kun," I said hesitantly, "is your chakra still sealed off?"

He looked at me as if he didn't want to give an answer. And then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

He could still heal, I thought desperately. _But he might not be a ninja ever again._

-o-

We spent another month in Konoha—and believe me when I say I spent most of those days feeling excruciatingly guilty. I worried for Abura, yes—every moment—but I also remembered that I'd told Gaara, impulsively, that we'd have a belated birthday party _next week_. That time had elapsed long ago.

And now I had lied. I had lied to Gaara, unintentionally, and there was no way to fix it. In a way, I dreaded returning—to face it, him, the bewildered hurt I was sure I'd find in his eyes.

I trained, hard. I talked to Neji, Ino, and Shino—and because everyone in Konoha is so very friendly, their sensei let me train with their squads. I visited Abura every day, watched his vision sharpen again, watched a handful of scars fade—though most of them remained. Watched sparks flare from his fingertips, the only chakra he could manifest at all. Watched as he struggled to speak, tried desperately not to wince at the rasping, helpless sounds that clawed at his throat.

Finally, the medic-nin decided he was fit to travel. He could, thank sands, walk at least—though his painful, stumbling steps and shaking limbs had for so long seemed to indicate he would never go more than a few steps at a time. He could see; he could breathe without sounding like the very air choked him, though sometimes his breath still caught like smoke in his lungs.

Sometimes, when he coughed, it sounded like a desperate _keh_ struggling to imitate his old, familiar _cheh_.

One sad medic, attempting a sort of stoic authority, told us that his throat was unlikely to heal further, especially in the dry air of Sunagakure. It was on the tip of my tongue to demand that we stay longer, then, but I bit down. She added that his chakra pathways might still repair as well, but it could take years, and anyway, with his physical instabilities—yes, he could walk, but it was slow—he probably wouldn't be able to take any more missions anyway.

Her determined stoicism turned into a kind of casual dismissal of Abura's life. I wondered—I know we both did—what he was supposed to do with his life after this. Where could one settle after a shinobi life?

And yet—on the day we prepared to leave, Abura whispered my name.

I whipped around, convinced it had to be one of the ninja I'd trained with in Konoha—or failing that, some ghost haunting Leaf Village's gates. But it really was Abura, looking as surprised as I felt, mouth half open as if to taste the lingering word.

"Abura," I said emphatically, grinning frantically, "we have to go back to the hospital. Stay in Konoha. It'll get better! It—"

But he shook his head, and I stopped. "Slow," he choked out, hoarse and almost inaudible. I hesitated, then nodded.

And we walked slowly back to Suna, savoring the normally repugnant humidity of the forest, letting Abura drink the soothing air. He still had trouble with words—still spoke quietly in a voice like grating glass. The hissing _cheh_ of his disdain tore agony in his throat; he tried, desperately, habit unconsciously bringing the sound up over and over again, but I thought that strangled _keh_ would be the closest he would ever come again.

-o-

Four days from the gates of Konoha, I settled myself under a sprawling old tree in the middle of the afternoon and said, "Happy birthday, Abura-kun."

He stopped in front of me, a startled expression in his eyes—and I couldn't tell if he was surprised I'd remembered, or if he'd lost track of days in the hospital and didn't know it was his birthday at all. I'd nearly lost count myself, each day being simply one more in the build-up of time since I'd lied to Gaara—but I'd spotted a calendar a few days before we left.

"I can't bake you a cake in the wilderness," I continued, subconsciously avoiding further contact with his gaze. Though he could see again as well as before the battle, his smoky eyes still had a vaguely burnt, empty veil to them that I couldn't quite reconcile with. Still, I flickered a grin in his general direction and continued, "I considered it, really, but the ingredients just wouldn't have kept."

Silently, Abura sat down beside me, leaning back against the tree trunk and fingering the roots as if he would have liked to burn them. "Maybe when we get back?" I suggested. He shrugged. I did the same.

"I'm not exactly an expert cook," I admitted. Then I reached into my pack and tossed him a box. He'd been handling the matches for the entirety of the journey, of course, lighting our fires despite his strangled chakra. But he'd at least refrained from burning all our matches in quick succession, since we needed them all the way back to Suna.

This box, though, was two hundred and fifty extra-long matches. I scraped bare a section of forest floor, wondering if I was an enabler, and watched Abura burn.


	100. A Change

A/N: At last, Gaara! As promised. Note- the last lines of dialogue in this chapter (and first few of the next chapter) are taken directly from the manga. I did not write them, and make no claim to them whatsoever; I am not attempting to plagiarize, merely stick to exact canon. ;P

-o-

Three days later, we reached the desert.

Abura had been speaking less and less as the air dried in his lungs. When he did speak, his voice came even quieter, raspier, so that I could hardly hear him at all.

But I'd been fighting myself on this discussion for weeks now, trying to decide if I should tell him while he was in the hospital or wait until he was healed. My choice was still wavering in my head, but I couldn't wait much longer. And even if Abura couldn't do much talking, we still had to talk.

"Abura-kun," I said, when we had settled in the dry dune grass, "I need to tell you something."

While he'd been in the hospital, around training with Konoha-nin, I had visited Abura every day. And though he couldn't talk to me, I had talked to him, spoken of things that had no importance. I had said how I used to love to wear bright colors, before I was a ninja—how sky blue and yellow were my favorites, not red at all. How I loved marzipan and hated pudding. How streamers were better than confetti because sometimes, after a birthday party for one of her friend's children, my mother had made me help her pick confetti out of the carpet, which bored me infinitely.

He watched me now, expectantly, as if certain I were going to share some other inane trivia, like how I slept on my back so nobody could sneak up on me and how I could never remember how to spell my father's name.

"Before we left for Konoha," I began, "Temari—um, you know Temari? Gaara's sister?"

Abura gave a short nod, having stiffened abruptly at the mention of Gaara's name.

"She wants to put Gaara on our team."

He stared. Simply stared, with eyes burnt-grey—and I couldn't react. I'd expected anger, or—or something, not just this blank disbelief.

Then I noticed his hands. Sparks snapped out of them, racing over his skin—not unusual, for he'd been able to produce sparks, painfully, for a while now. But beneath the red-hot fireflies of his left hand, a fiery film seeped from the tattooed flame. It wreathed his wrist, nothing more than a thin burning veil, but Abura's own fire nonetheless.

_He could still heal_.

I hurried on, tripping over my words in my excitement. "She—Temari—would take Isane, if Isane agreed, and Gaara would join us." The veil flared, coating his hand like a glove, and he couldn't fail to notice it—but, incredibly, his gaze was still trained on me, though he shortly began to produce a second burning glove from the scars of his right hand.

"But," I hastened to add, quietly, watching Abura's hands and not his gently unnerving eyes, "Abura-kun, I… I'm going to tell her no."

The molten-fire gloves dissolved and fell, like sand sliding off a wide leaf, pooling as the burnished gold particles hit the ground. They left tiny divots in the grass-studded dunes, and I couldn't begin to fathom whether this was a good sign or a bad sign.

I just kept talking instead of trying to decide. "I—I decided it wouldn't be fair to Isane-chan, to send her to strangers, and to—to take her away from… Eiri's team…" I kept my gaze downcast, but tried to peer up at Abura surreptitiously. His fists were clenched, but at least he was actually deigning to look at me.

"And—and you."

This was the part I had fought with the most. Him. He wouldn't suffer Gaara on our team—but it was still a prominent possibility that he could no longer be a shinobi when we reached home. There was fire in his hands, perhaps, but he still walked like an old man with arthritis. Arthritic old men did not move quickly enough to escape enemy attention.

So if Abura couldn't stay on the team anyway, why not let Gaara take his place, right?

But Abura would never forgive me if I told him that, if I put him second place to Gaara. And shinobi or no, I couldn't afford not to have Abura on my side. So I would promise to keep him—and if the Council decided he couldn't stay, that wasn't my fault.

It felt a little bit like cheating. A little bit like lying. Well—I was a liar, and ninja couldn't always fight fair.

"I know you wouldn't like it, Abura-kun, and you've been my brother longer than Gaara's been my friend."

It rang false in my ears—not _false,_ exactly, but it didn't sound quite sincere, no matter how much I meant it. Nonetheless, Abura seemed to accept it, relaxing just slightly. I breathed for a minute, let him do the same—and then I said, "Did you see what your hands were doing?"

-o-

In another week, we finally reached Suna. Abura hadn't been able to summon fire again, but the fact that he _had_ done it gave me hope—and him, too, I think. Sometimes I could see it in his eyes, when he wasn't staring too vacantly into space—the burnt-grey veil of his gaze had a spark behind it again.

Apparently, Konoha had sent word ahead, because immediately upon announcing our presence in the village, Abura was swarmed with medic-nin. I followed as best as they let me, shouting after him with my cheekiest grin that he should be honored the village wanted to expend so many resources on him. I guess shinobi with such an affinity for fire—for destruction—were a precious commodity.

I knew I really should have gone to report to Chie-sensei right away. But I didn't want to do that without Abura, not really.

And maybe shinobi shouldn't base their choices on what they _want_. But what I did want was to see Gaara—so that's what I went to do.

-o-

I strode up to the front door of the Kazekage's mansion and—I think I'd grown as a person—actually knocked, instead of just hopping in a window. Then I leaned against the doorframe and _waited_. Surely the Kazekage's children weren't the _only _ones living here; there had to be some sort of shinobi contingent. Perhaps they were all inside guarding the important Kazekage documents—

The door opened, and there was one now. "Hello," I said. "I'm looking for Temari-san or Gaara-sama?" I paused, then added, "Or Kankuro-san?"

The shinobi looked me up and down, coldly, as if checking for lies. Perhaps he would find one if he knew where to look. Then, abruptly, he gave me the widest, most fantastic grin I had seen in quite some time.

"Akashi Takara," he said, and I blinked. "Kankuro-san and Gaara-san are out, and Temari-san is with the Council."

With the Council? I wondered if she was in the process of asking about Isane, or if she'd taken to regularly attending Council meetings. Maybe she'd end up the next Kazekage after all.

"But I can tell you where Kankuro-san and Gaara-san are, they didn't leave word not to be disturbed."

"Yes please." _Gaara-san_. This man was clearly referring to Gaara with a certain level of deference, but also without fear. Was I missing something? Had Suna changed so drastically in the—oh sands, it was two whole months—since I'd been gone? I was starting to get a little bit nervous.

He directed me to a patch of overseeing cliffs where the Kazekage's sons had gone. I thanked him and followed his directions, easily spotting Gaara and Kankuro silhouetted against the desert. And then—because I was still a shinobi, a sneak, a spy, and most of all a stalker—I sank into the shadows of a clump of dusty rocks and listened.

"…people think of you only as 'a frightening weapon,'" Kankuro was saying, and my heart tightened. "To separate from us and to just go into their gang outta the blue like this… It'll be hard, man."

They were already talking about this. Already talking about what I had decided to refuse.

"The superiors don't think very much of you anyway." Kankuro hesitated, as if still afraid to stir up the demon in Gaara—and then forged on. "When it comes to you, the majority of the village is embraced with fear."

I sat back on the hot stone and let out a silent sigh, watching Gaara absorb his brother's words. At least he didn't argue—I could remember quite clearly the day in the Forest of Death where Kankuro had thought he might die by Gaara's hand.

And then Gaara spoke.

"I know," he said. "But… By just waiting, I get attacked by an even greater anguish." He stared out across the desert, as if he didn't even know Kankuro still stood there, letting the sun and sand wash over him. "All one can do is create his own path through hard work. Without being a loner and taking the easy path… So someday, I'll maybe… be like…"

It struck me extremely abruptly that Gaara had changed a _lot_ while I'd been gone. And I'd missed it all. So while I wanted that sentence to end with me—I knew it wouldn't.

And in fact, it didn't end at all.

"So that's why I, as one of the Sand's shinobi, aim to be Kazekage."


	101. A Goal

A/N: I'm out of practice writing Gaara, guys. :/

-o-

I sputtered and choked and nearly gave myself away then and there. Not Temari as Kazekage—but _Gaara_. Gaara who—I couldn't even articulate thoughts, and I didn't have time, because he wasn't _done_.

"To bond with and live for this village."

Kankuro made the tiniest noise that might have been his brother's name. He sounded almost sad, too—as if thinking of just how much effort Gaara would have to go through to change the opinions of every single villager—or enough that he could stand as their leader.

"Through hard work, I want to be respected by everyone. I got that after seeing Uzumaki Naruto. But up until now… bonds with others…" Gaara seemed to be having trouble articulating his point, and I struggled not to imagine that his next words would be for me.

"…have been nothing but an annoyance to the point I would want to kill. But for him to go so far as to say… 'What's the deal with bonds?'" He paused, lifted his eyes upward to the blue, so blue desert sky. "Now there's something that I understand a little better. Hate, sadness, and even happiness… To be able to share it with another person…"

Kankuro muttered something that I didn't catch, but Gaara looked back briefly. "Yes. Perhaps," he conceded. "Uzumaki Naruto… fighting from him, I learned that. He knew pain like I did. And then, he taught me that you can change that path. I wish, one day, that I can be needed by someone. Not as a frightening weapon."

I leaned my head on my knees, spinning with a sort of euphoric bewilderment—combined with the urge to shout that _I _needed him—and almost missed Gaara's half-turned head, half-smile, as he finished: "But as the Sand's Kazekage."

Kankuro stared for a long, uncertain moment. Then he said, "Wow, bro. You keep saying Uzumaki Naruto, but I think Akashi Takara's really done a number on you."

Gaara looked startled—and I nearly hit my head on a rock, it jolted up so fast. "She—" he began, but Kankuro shrugged, a sort of half-smug grin on his painted face.

"Hey, Gaara. I'll back you up on this. It's just going to take a lot of work."

"I already acknowledged 'through hard work,'" he said quietly.

"You did." Kankuro nodded. "Well, Temari's in Council now, telling them all why you should be allowed to go hang out with someone besides family. There's your first good word to the authorities." He turned around, giving his redheaded brother a backhanded wave. "You know I haven't got much weight, but I'll go see what good news I can stir up for you." He looked back, smirking. "You should find Akashi and tell her some of the same."

"She has… been on a mission." He sounded rather stiff all of a sudden, and my nervousness increased to a new level of nausea.

"Yeah, and when she gets back, she'll want to know about her new teammate, man."

"We aren't teammates yet."

"And she's not back yet. See ya." With that, Kankuro left, leaving Gaara to survey the desert in silence.

I sat where I was, chewing my lip—and chewing and chewing until it began to bleed. Gaara's gaze shifted back over his shoulder again; he could probably smell the blood. Changed or not, he still had a demon in him. Either that, or the wind had shifted, and he caught a whiff of kunoichi-who-hasn't-bathed-in-a-week (me). In Konoha, there'd been streams, but once we hit the desert, water had been too precious; I should've taken the time to shower before I came for this—but I didn't have time now, because I had to abruptly stand up and look like I hadn't been hiding there for several minutes.

"Takara," he said, "you're bleeding."

Well that confirmed that either he didn't notice the reek or he had grown too polite to mention it. I rubbed my hand across my lip, which did absolutely nothing except serve to smear blood around.

"It's nothing," I said, and then stood there awkwardly and stared. He gazed calmly right back, pale eyes still no warmer than icicles when I had to tell him he couldn't do what his heart was so set on doing.

"Gaara-sama," I began, choosing the safe honorific for making someone mad. "About—my team."

"The Council has not made a decision yet." He paused. "Temari is there now, trying to convince them. It's been… a long two months."

I swallowed. "They're fighting it?"

"They think my family can control me."

"Then they really haven't been paying attention." I winced as I said it, and smiled sheepishly. "I—Gaara-sama, I can't ask for you on my team."

Really, whether or not I asked for him was not the issue in question. But it was the safest way I could think to phrase it. If it turned out that Abura could no longer serve, leaving another opening on our squad… I wouldn't turn Gaara down. Couldn't turn him down.

He was looking at me almost uncomprehendingly; I took a deep breath and tried to explain. "It's—Abura. My teammate. He…" I paused. "…isn't fond of redheads." That wasn't really a lie, since Abura didn't like Gaara, and he certainly he didn't like the redheaded Arasi. I couldn't presently remember if he knew any other redheads, and I didn't try very hard. "And if I asked you to join, it… would be like betraying him."

Gaara still didn't speak—and then, finally, he nodded. "That's alright," he said, the tiniest ghost of certainty on his pale face. "If I cannot join your squad, I will join another. This time, I won't stop trying."

He started to walk away. I knew I still needed to broach the topic of the missed belated birthday party—of the lying—but I was too stunned to work up any words. Suddenly, Gaara stopped again, as if abruptly remembering something; he half-turned back, and asked hesitantly, "Will you come to dinner with us again?"

-o-

If it had been anyone else, I would have been able to weasel out of dinner with some well-chosen excuses—but I couldn't lie to Gaara, and even evading a proper answer didn't seem right. So I agreed to more awkward conversation, and was saved from having to bring up birthdays by the reappearance of Kankuro. Then Temari turned up and said the Council was deliberating on the account of our teams, and everything got very overwhelming, at which point I skipped out as early as possible in favor of a shower and sleep.

Except I didn't get a shower. At this point, I was not up to dealing with my empty house, so I slept in a chair in a hospital waiting room—I would've slept by Abura's bed, but they kicked me out when visiting hours were over, and I didn't feel up to maintaining the chakra flow necessary to hide myself all night.

When I woke up, I figured to go get myself a shower, a proper couch to sleep on, and a new sword.

Nagi-sensei looked surprised to see me, but at least she let me in. I hesitated—I really just wanted a shower—and then said, "My katana got torched."

Nagi-sensei wrinkled her nose. "Go take a shower, Taka-chan," she said. "Then she'll show you a weapon it won't be so easy to burn."

-o-

It was excellent to be clean. I celebrated by following Nagi-sensei to a room I had never expected to see: The walls were lined with blades, of varying length and color and shape. I blinked, stunned, and realized she was speaking.

"You should of course forge your own blade, but since you'll be needing fire for that, she thinks you should wait for Rara-kun." She winked and I paused, puzzling that out. Rara… That could be Gaara _or_ Abura. But she had said fire—I tried not to follow that thought through to _guess I won't be making my own sword then…_

Nagi-sensei took some seemingly arbitrary measurements—by the time she was measuring the distance between my big and little toes, I figured she was messing with me—and then wandered around the room running her fingers along the blades. I stood still, watching, until she turned back and quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Taka-chan should be doing this, too. Tell her if one feels like you."

Feels like me? That was an incomprehensible requirement—until I started brushing metal, feeling cool steel resonating against chakra. Sometimes Nagi-sensei came over with a katana, but she always took it away again.

About when I started to get bored, she handed me a katana with a dark-metal blade and a cloudy sheen. It seemed to fit right in my hand, though I think Nagi-sensei saw something a little more cabalistic to it. She looked immensely satisfied, told me to name it later, and ushered me out for a lesson.


	102. A Record

A/N: What do you guys think if I do continue the all-character project—but instead have it for the _last_ chapter? This is still a _long_ way off, so there's plenty of time—but the end _is_ in sight nonetheless. Thoughts?

Also- a reminder that November is National Novel Writing Month, so unless I'm a couple of chapters ahead before it comes around, you won't hear from me in November. (:

-o-

Nagi-sensei let me go on the condition that I under no circumstances used my new blade unless I was in her presence, until she deemed me ready. I thought this was a bit unfair—I had, after all, been practicing with the wooden one for quite a while—but I was too tired to argue.

The next day, I finally steeled myself to talk to Gaara.

Of course, the last time I'd had such steel, I'd backed out anyway. But _this_ time I would. Had to.

The door to the mansion opened more promptly today. I noticed a few more guards than usual skulking about—was the Council increasing security around the Kazekage's mansion again? Surely not because they already expected to have a new Kage soon. Though I suppose they might have had someone not-Gaara in mind. We had been a while without a leader—and I suspect it made us politically weak.

Security or no, they still let me in. It occurred to me in a moment of terror that I still hadn't been to see Chie-sensei and maybe I should've done that first. But then Gaara was standing there, looking surprised then—pleased, but not in the bloodthirsty way I had seen in the past.

"Takara," he said, paused, then gestured for me to follow—actually gestured, without a flick of his sand to do it for him. I swallowed, said, "Gaara-sama," acutely aware of the difference in our honorifics, and obeyed.

He led me to a stone balcony that overlooked the village—_his__ village_, I couldn't help but think, though it wasn't. Yet. Admittedly, the idea of Gaara as Kazekage gave me a thrill—I just couldn't tell if it was fear or anticipation.

I think he expected me to say something, since I had come to him, so we stood in tense silence. Finally, without meeting his eyes, I mumbled, "My mission—"

I had truly hoped he would interrupt to reassure and forgive me, but I guess he hadn't changed _that_ much. "It ran over. Way longer than I expected."

"You made it back safely."

"I… As you can see." I paused. "Abura-kun didn't though."

"Your teammate?"

"Yeah."

"I did not know."

"Well, you shouldn't be expected to."

"No."

Puzzlingly, this seemed to be a 'no' of disagreement rather than acceptance of his lack of involvement. He went on, "I've been… keeping track." He said it like it tasted strangely on his tongue, but I was a little more concerned with the words than the manner in which he said them.

"Of my team?"

"Yes." Before I could formulate a response to this, he added, "And others. I am attempting to… involve myself."

I stopped to consider the implications of a Kazekage who cared individually about each of his shinobi. If it were anyone else… they would love him because he loved them. But this was Gaara. I could love him—could the rest of the village?

Well, I wasn't going to be selfish about it. If I could convince anyone, I would.

Gaara seemed uncertain of my silence. "Is that not good?"

"It's good to care," I said. "Just… don't tell anyone for now. They might be… concerned about someone knowing so much about them."

Well, he was talking to a lifelong stalker after all. I couldn't give any other advice.

"So," I went on, "Abura's records don't show that he was injured?"

"No."

"Er… when's the last time you checked them?"

"Yesterday night. After dinner." A brief frown crossed his features. "They do not even acknowledge your return. I was not aware you were back until you arrived to talk last night."

"That's… weird." I _really _needed to talk to Chie-sensei. The words rose to my lips I could use that as an escape route now….

I tore myself away from the cowardly excuse. Shinobi had to be good at the quick getaways, but this was not a shinobi situation—it was a personal one.

"But, Gaara-sama, I… um. Promised you. Before I left." He regarded me steadily, an rather unnervingly. It failed to make my sentences any more coherent.

"I'm really sorry," I finally managed, trying not to sound _too_ pitiful. "I said next week and then we were gone for two months, and I…" I nearly choked on the last word, almost couldn't force it out. "…lied."

"I didn't—quite—close my eyes, but I did stare nervously right past his shoulder. Silence strung the air; I fidgeted nervously, then sidled over to the balcony railing and leaned my elbows on it.

"I'm sorry," I said again, not knowing what else to do as I surveyed the sprawling vista of sunstruck Suna. "It wasn't intentional."

He came up beside me and put a hand on the stone. "I am used to people lying to me."

Now I did close my eyes as I reined in a groan. "That doesn't make me feel _better_ about it."

"But I am not used to people apologizing for it."

Laying my head down on the railing, I muttered, "You're not really used to any decent human beings then, are you?"

"No."

I winced slightly and sighed. Of course not.

"I'd acquaint you with a few more if I could, but I think you've met everyone I know." Aside from half-remembered classmates from the Academy, but I definitely would not be introducing him to, say, Aru. Who may or may not have fallen under the category of decent—I hadn't spoken to her in probably years now.

Sighing again, I watched heat haze waver over Suna. "Will you forgive me?"

"Yes."

Well that had been surprisingly easy.

"…but I do not understand how to."

Oh. Nevermind.

"Are you mad at me, Gaara-sama? For… lying?"

"Not anymore."

Trying not to dwell on the fact that this meant he _had_been—and what did his anger amount to these days? Imagining my corpse bloody at his feet?—I said, "Then you already have. That moment, when you stop being angry, that's forgiveness."

He paused, then said, "Is there a time when one stops being angry with oneself?"

"I dunno," I replied. "Supposedly. I don't know about you, though, but I just keep getting madder. Let's reschedule."

"Reschedule?"

"Sorry, I changed the subject again. This really belated birthday party. Let's still do it."

I watched him nod out of the corner of my eye, then said, "Tomorrow?" mostly because I was an idiot. That was another day I wouldn't be hunting down Chi-sensei. If our files weren't updated, did she even know we were back? Surely they wouldn't not-inform our own sensei of her students' return.

Oh yeah, and I still didn't have a gift for Gaara. I'd been fostering an idea, before—but it required Abura's help, and Abura was no longer in any fit state to help even if I could convince him to do something for Gaara.

"No wait," I said hurriedly. "Day after tomorrow? Please?" I could linger here the rest of the day, spend tomorrow finding a gift, and if I got lucky and found something quickly, report to Chie-sensei after. To my immense relief, Gaara agreed.

"I'll meet you here mid-morning?" I suggested, since he didn't offer any details. When this was settled, we were silent for a moment, and then I brought up conversation again.

"So, Gaara-sama… What's with the increased security?"

I thought he allowed himself a small smile, but it was so unexpected I couldn't be sure. In fact, I was probably wrong. "The Council is considering allowing me to rejoin the regular troops. But first I must… prove, in front of sufficient shinobi, that I am… in control."

Grinning, I finally raised myself back to my elbows. "That's great. You'll be among us in no time."

"I am not so certain."

"…Why not?"

Sand twitched at our feet. "It is the full moon tonight."

"…Oh." I glanced up at the sky, though it was nowhere near night. "Do you want me to stay here tonight, Gaara?"

"Yes," he said, and I blinked. "But it will be too dangerous."

"I don't mind."

"I do."

"I… I see."

Except I didn't. I didn't at all.


	103. A Stranger

A/N: A little over 24 hours until NaNo, and I finish a chapter—hopefully this one will carry you through November!

-o-

Going shopping by myself didn't seem particularly appealing, so I hunted down Isane the following day. We spent a good many unproductive hours in and out of Suna's shops, with Isane suggesting everything from extra-caffeinated coffee to a stuffed raccoon. When she held up a glittery, touristy _I__*HEART*__Suna_ t-shirt, I began to wonder if she were really the best partner for gift shopping—but at least we were both having fun.

As night started to descend and the shops started to close, I started to panic. When Isane presented me with a do-it-yourself multi-colored sand sculpture kit, I decided I needed to stop looking for The Perfect Gift and just find a present that wouldn't confuse him.

Isane delightedly pulled me into a little corner tea shop, and I decided tea was a perfectly safe, useful gift. Furthermore, this shop had about a million different flavors; I spent way too much time just smelling them with my friend until I bought three different kinds and hoped Gaara would enjoy one of them.

After I had them wrapped, I figured I still had time to find Chie-sensei, but Nagi-sensei interrupted me for a lengthy lesson in swordplay, after which I passed out on her couch.

And then it was morning.

-o-

I was starting to get used to this whole wait-at-the-door thing, and I wasn't entirely sure I liked it. To show my disapproval, I fidgeted wildly until someone let me in. I also talked myself out of going through a window. Or turning tail to run. Barely.

I hadn't actually made any plans of what I was supposed to do with Gaara, to celebrate, _all__day_. I guessed the kitchen was probably at least decently stocked if he wanted a cake or something—and if there actually _weren__'__t_enough ingredients (or a cookbook), that just meant we could go buy ingredients, which would take up more time, thus allowing it to _not_ be spent in awkward silence.

Probably I should have thought this out a little bit better.

But Gaara himself answered the door, so there was no backing out now.

And I realized I didn't want to. This might even be fun. Awkward, but fun.

"Happy birthday, Gaara-sama," I said, grinning, and he actually smiled back at me when he returned the greeting.

I tried to remember if that flutter in my heart had always been there, back when I followed him around.

But I guess I wasn't _really_done following him: he led the way as we returned to the balcony where we'd spent our previous meeting. The village wavered in the morning sun, but I didn't look at it this time; I kept my eyes on Gaara, teaching him the happy birthday song while I awkwardly juggled the package.

Not surprisingly, he refused to sing it. I grinned my way through an off-kilter tune for him, then said, "It's tradition, Gaara-sama."

He responded with a silent stare, and I held out my gift. It was wrapped in holographic neon green paper studded with gold and purple circles, which actually nearly blinded me to look at. "I don't really know if you'll like it, but I didn't know…"

His sand slithered forward, then hesitated and collapsed as Gaara reached out with his own hands. He looked at me uncertainly I smiled as brightly as I could manage, and he cautiously pulled at the paper.

Apparently the wrapper at the store had done his job _too_ well: a hint of frustration entered Gaara's movements, and finally a fistful of sand tore the paper apart. Luckily, the packages of tea didn't suffer for it.

Gaara didn't react visibly, just looked up and said, "Thank you."

"Of course," I said cheerfully, though I'd been hoping for some indication of whether I'd chosen well. "I hope it'll make it easier to stay up all night."

He nodded, and sand swirled from the gourd at his back. "Temari helped," he said. "I… didn't know."

A small package wrapped in red hovered on a tableau of sand in front of me. I eyed it with some anxiety, then took it and carefully slit the sides. (No way was I _not_ saving the paper with whatever was inside.) A tiny box revealed a short, sturdy chain with a pale silver rose. Some of Gaara's sand had infiltrated the box; a single grain nestled in the center of the flower.

Shinobi had no use for jewelry—it could only really get in the way. Even so, I immediately attempted to clasp it around my throat, fumbling with it. I wasn't in the least bit accustomed to putting on jewelry—in fact, this might have been my first experience with it—but I finally managed success. The chain was short—more a choker than a necklace, so it wouldn't dangle free and catch on things, or hit me in the face—and the rose moved when I spoke.

"Gaara-sama." I stopped. All the words that sprung to my lips sounded like every cheesy romance I'd never had time to watch: _It__'__s__beautiful_ and _I__don__'__t__know__what__to__say_. I was _not_ in a cheesy romance. I refused to be.

"Thank you isn't strong enough."

I winced a little. Okay, maybe I was.

Wait, no. I wasn't admitting that.

"But thank you. Really."

We didn't bake a cake or anything after that. We just went out into the village and talked. I learned who he had become while I was away in Konoha, and tried not to talk too much about myself. Since he wasn't the most talkative person either, we also spent a lot of time walking in silence—sometimes incredibly awkward silence—but since it was Gaara, that was okay, too.

Overall, a much better (way belated) birthday than any my mother'd ever thrown.

-o-

I knew I now _had_ to talk to Chie-sensei, but every time I went looking, Nagi-sensei intercepted me for a long, grueling lesson that left me too exhausted to leave her house. The third time it happened, I started to get suspicious, but I could hardly refuse a jōnin.

A week later, Abura was released from the hospital—with a limp, with a rasping voice, but at least with sparks at his fingertips. We dodged Nagi-sensei (barely), but Chie-sensei wasn't at home—and when I found Isane, she said she hadn't been living with Chie for a while now.

Wandering through the streets of Suna looking for one jōnin while evading another took some tricky shadowplay, but we managed. We stumbled upon Chie-sensei—finally—in a shady, out-of-the-way open-air café, chatting with a man I didn't know.

"Chie-sensei!" I called, and she looked up abruptly, flicking azure hair out of startled eyes.

"Takara-chan. Abura-kun. You're back."

"We've been back for more than a week, Sensei."

A strange expression crossed her face—anger, and I thought… fear. "Sensei?" I said nervously. "Didn't you know?"

"No," she said neutrally.

"Abura-kun's been in the hospital for—" I glanced at the pyro and stopped. He wasn't looking at Chie; his gaze was fixed on the stranger, and I realized that one hoarse, almost inaudible word had issued from his mouth.

"Dad?"

Not hearing, the man didn't turn around; I stared hard at the back of his head as if I could recognize him. I didn't know anything about Abura's father except that he lived somewhere far away and sent Abura birthday gifts on the wrong day—so why was he here, talking to our teacher?

He clearly couldn't be. I'd misheard. Or Abura was wrong—if he hadn't seen his father in years, how would he recognize him?

Chie, who clearly hadn't heard either, said very quietly and dangerously, "Abura's been in the hospital?" Her gaze traveled his new contingent of scars and hardened.

"Chie-sensei, what's going on?"

"The Council's priorities have shifted out of line, people. Remember that." She stood up abruptly and, after a pause and I thought a sigh, nodded at her companion. His head whipped around at top speed, as if he'd been waiting for Chie's permission.

"Abura," he said, and the pyro took a step back. I stared.

Maybe, I thought, I could see the resemblance—in their cheekbones, the color of their hair. But not their eyes—even battered, Abura's eyes had a spark behind them. But his father's—as I guess this man really was—were flat, and… not cold, but maybe lukewarm, dull, like a glassed-over reflection, and the color of a stale bruise. It didn't make me want to like him—but my feelings might have had a lot more to do with how little he apparently cared about Abura. At least my father had been absent because of death; this man had left his son behind on purpose.

Okay, I didn't actually know that. I didn't know the circumstances. But Abura seemed to share my sentiments: his father opened his arms for a hug, and the pyro stood still.


	104. A Witness

A/N: Chapter 98 here! Sorry, folks, I intended to start up almost immediately after NaNo, but finals struck. I'm on break now, and hopefully will be able to post with some semblance of regularity. For those who care—I kicked literary butt at NaNoWriMo with 121,242 words in 29 days. :D

This chapter is probably a smidge boring. Warning: I promised to write through the time skip, but I'm running out of steam; I'll probably be summarizing quite a bit until I hit Shippuden, for which I apologize, but it needs to be done. Many, many apologies, and I hope you'll stick with me anyway. Love!

-o-

"Why is he here?" The look Abura leveled at Chie was almost as cold as the one he'd given his father.

"Abura—"

"_Tell __me_." The force behind the rasping words was almost terrifying.

"He's on a diplomatic mission from Iwa," Chie-sensei said flatly.

I flinched at the name of the village, but Abura was more concerned still with his father. "He is not a diplomat," the pyro snapped, voice tearing painfully at his throat.

"Abura-kun, because you have not seen him in years, you do not know what he is and is not."

"Kid, I've wanted to talk every time I came, but Ch—"

"Dai, _stop __talking._"

I don't think I'd ever been so scared of Chie-sensei; Abura's father certainly shut up in a hurry. Too late, though—Abura's expression had turned, if possible, harder at the knowledge that his father had been here before—and never seen him at all.

Intent as I was on my confusion and Abura's anger, I still didn't miss the approach of high-ranking shinobi at the corners of the café. They were _too_ high-ranking to be easily spotted, so I had to suspect that they meant to be seen. Chie-sensei saw them, too; her brown eyes flicked sideways, then back to us.

"Takara-chan, Abura-kun, go."

Abura forced out that strangled sound that meant _cheh_ in his new voice and didn't move. I grabbed his wrist, but he jerked away, leaving a tiny pattern of sparks on my palm.

"Abura, you need to leave," said his father urgently.

"Don't want to take after _you_."

"I will explain—"

"People, _go!_"

But then there was an ANBU standing there in all our view, Abura the only one surprised by his presence. In one deft motion, Chie had unwound the chain-weapon she wore around her waist. Abura's father sidled over to stand under her protection, but she ignored him, looking directly at us.

"I'm sorry, people," she said, then ducked several kunai, dragging Abura's father down with her and hauling him down the street as she fled.

-o-

I now officially had no team members and no sensei, so they compensated me with the thrill of D-Rank missions for a month. I'd had this experience before, but that didn't make it any less tedious; I spent most of the time grinding my teeth and itching to find my sensei. She'd claimed that Abura's father came from Iwa, and I foolishly considered myself enough of an expert at Iwa to make my way around until I located Chie.

But after a while, just slightly, I began to relax. It was soothing, not having to face anything more dangerous than unruly thorns or angry rabbits. And Gaara visited sometimes, while I was in the greenhouses, or shopping, and for a time—it was like being normal.

And then I realized again how utterly boring it was to be normal, after a life facing down kunai and blood. When I started to go a little bit crazy, that's when the Council called me in.

Gaara paced at my side in silence as I followed the jōnin to my summons. I didn't face the whole Council, happily, only one man who sat behind the desk where the Kazekage had once waited to assign missions.

"Akashi Takara?"

"Yes," I confirmed, only a little bit nervous.

"Makoto Chie was your squad leader, correct?"

"As far as I know, she still is."

The man gave me a look half reproaching, half appraising, and nodded. Three shinobi, all equipped like jōnin, stepped away from the shadows along the wall: a woman with brown curls and sharp eyes, a man with two swords crossed at his back, and a teen who looked just under twenty, too young to be the standard jōnin despite the scars across his hands and in his gaze.

"Would you say that you know Makoto Chie?" the councilman asked.

I wouldn't say that at all. I didn't understand her, had no clue about her past, and didn't know how she knew the things she knew.

"Yes," I said.

Well, okay, I'd say it. But I wouldn't believe it.

"This is your temporary squad," he said. "They seek Chie. As her student, you can offer insight as to where she may be hiding and how she may be working."

That wasn't right, I thought. Chie-sensei had friends, shinobi who'd known her since the Academy, surely. I didn't have any insight they didn't.

No—as one helpless little genin that she cared about, I was _bait_.

Maybe even cannon fodder.

Things never really change, do they?

"Happy to help," I said, keeping the bitterness out of my voice with impressive calm. I was impressed with myself, anyway, considering the skills I'd lost while telling the truth. "Abura—?"

"Kuraho Abura is not fit for missions at present."

I knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. I scowled slightly, but the expression slid off my face to be replaced with one of utter shock as Gaara said, "I will go."

This plunged the room into complete silence, even the councilman run out of arrogant stoicism, until the teen jōnin said, "Well, is he any good in a fight?"

I flipped my gaze to the jōnin, whose black hair was striped bright green across the front. He wore the tiniest hint of a teasing smile in his eyes behind the perfect deadpan mask over his face.

"Yes," said Gaara, not understanding the joke.

"Gaara-san," said the councilman carefully. "You aren't as familiar with the shinobi we are tracking as Akashi Takara, and as you are not a member of her squad—"

"I have not been assigned to another team yet," Gaara pointed out coolly. "I have no current mission." Sand twitched almost unconsciously around his wrists—or perhaps it was entirely conscious. Maybe he had grown to anticipate the nervous looks like the one the councilman now offered, to expect the way people caved to his demands when they caught sight of the demon in the sand.

"Very well," said the councilman. "It will be a good test to assess if you're prepared to be placed with a squad of strangers."

Gaara regarded him with a steady, unnerving stare, and said nothing, accepting in silence. I suppressed a grin of delight and asked, "What's the plan?"

"Jemini has already seen to supplying the team," the councilman informed me. The female jōnin quirked her lips and flipped me a careless wave with laced fingers.

"But me, I didn't plan for a fifth," she said, voice rough and scratchy—not quite raw, like Abura's, but strained. I noticed a ring of scarring around her neck, as if she'd had her throat slit and survived. "So sadly, we can't leave as immediately as planned."

I experienced a flash of annoyance, that they'd expected me to depart right after this meeting, without the chance to gather my own supplies or inform any of my friends. I would have to, for example, ask Nagi-sensei about the use of my sword on this mission. I'd graduated to being allowed to practice on my own, but she still seemed to think that I would hurt myself forgetting which end to hold. But having a sword across my back in a battle and not being able to defend myself with it would be a major disadvantage.

In addition to that—I could not walk out of Suna without telling Abura where I was going. And I wanted to alert Isane, too.

"That's fine with me," I assured them honestly. "I have people to tell."

"Inform no one," said the councilman sharply.

I paused, blinked, then said, "Alright, I won't," which I had no intention of making true. The youngest jōnin caught my gaze and offered the tiniest quirk of an eyebrow, as if he didn't believe a word I said. That could be unfortunate, if he intended to see through me this whole trip.

"Hikitsuri, he can go with you," Jemini said, spotting the expression, and I winced. I may have avoided Nagi-sensei a few times, but I doubted my ability to give this jōnin the slip on my way to see my friends. "If you need to stop at home to retrieve anything."

"I do." I glanced back at Gaara, and realized that if he stood by me as I said my goodbyes, he would be playing witness to my lie. Hunching my shoulders slightly, I slid a hand into a pocket and walked out.


	105. A Joke

A/N: CHAPTER 99! That means Chapter 100 is NEXT—it's 6000 words and counting. Happy Christmas, everyone! (And if you don't celebrate it—happy December 25th!) I'm currently on a ship with little internet time, so I'll reply to my lovely reviewers when I return!

-o-

I bypassed Abura's front door, scaling the stone wall with a hint of the chakra it once would have taken. Hoping that Hikitsuri would be able to handle Gaara if the jōnin confused the redhead with his deadpan humor, I convinced them to stay outside, carefully meeting Hikitsuri's eyes and promising only him that I wouldn't tell Abura our destination. I fully intended to explain everything to Abura, and I didn't want Gaara to pick up that lie.

Tapping gently on Abura's shutters, I waited for a few moments, glancing over the balcony to see Hikitsuri talking solemnly to Gaara. Quickly, I kicked open the window, absconding before I would have to take responsibility for that conversation.

Abura rolled out of bed at my entrance, landing lightly with sparks over his skin—of which I could see a great deal, since he hadn't worn a shirt to sleep. The firefly-stars threw his scars into sharp relief, crisscrossing his bare chest and arms. I'd seen them before, but I winced away anyway; Abura noticed, realized it was me, doused his sparks as he stood up.

"Keh, you couldn't take the stairs?"

"Your mother's too lovely for me to blow her off this morning just because I wanted too badly to talk to you," I said brightly, dropping my gaze surreptitiously to the side so I didn't have to focus on his injuries. Or his chest. He watched my eyes slip away and yanked a shirt off the ground, tugging it on and folding his arms.

"What's so urgent?"

"I'm going on a mission."

He lunged for his shuriken pouch, quickly securing it and scrambling for his sandals. "Keh, why don't I have a mission scroll? Sh—" His voice caught; he swallowed a raw rasp and tried again. "Short notice."

"Abura-kun, I—I said _I._ You know you're not on active duty right now."

He dropped the one sandal he had managed to locate and offered a sour glare to cover the flash of painful disappointment in his eyes. "Why bother c-coming to me?" He added a laborious _keh_ to mask the stutter of his sore voice.

"We're looking for Chie-sensei," I said quietly.

Abura responded with a stony silence, staring me down and then turning away. "Bye," he said dismissively. "Come back safe."

Repulsed by the cold radiating off him, I backed up toward the window. "Abura? I wish you could—"

"I don't," he said.

I sat down on the window ledge, glancing briefly outside to check that Gaara hadn't killed Hikitsuri yet. I couldn't see much over the balcony, just a glimpse of red hair, but I heard a murmur of voice that I suspected was the young jōnin still conversing. I supposed it might have been Gaara muttering to his demon, if he'd just murdered Hikitsuri—but I liked to think he'd moved beyond that.

"Why not?"

He glanced toward me, and I forced myself to catch his eyes, despite the frost over the embers. For a moment, I thought he was going to offer me an enigmatic, petulant explanation that explained nothing, but maybe we'd moved to being open with each other during our months of travel. He hesitated a moment, then said sharply, "My father."

I waited for him to explain, then realized he really didn't have to. He probably couldn't even, never being the kind to share all his emotions, but—I thought maybe I could understand a sort of sense of betrayal, his sensei in league with his untrustworthy parent.

"Alright," I said. "I won't bring him back safe."

"Thanks," he said, and sat back down on his bed, unfastening his kunai pouch. I swung my feet out the window and looked back; he raised his eyes and said, "I mean it."

"Mean what? 'Thanks'?"

"Keh. Come back safe."

-o-

"Nagi-sensei?"

I stepped into her house, Hikitsuri striding merrily on one side, Gaara pacing on the other. Without waiting for a response, I began rifling through things, digging in the cushions of the couch where I continued to sleep and retrieving various objects I'd left lying around. Hikitsuri leaned against a table while Gaara continued to awkwardly follow me around.

Nagi-sensei appeared, glancing at Hikitsuri with a nod of greeting, then returning her attention to me. I quickly explained about going on a mission, deliberately avoiding the mention of Chie-sensei, though I expect she knew more than she said. She and Chie were close, and she'd clearly spent a week keeping me away from my sensei for whatever unexplainable reasons.

"—so can I use my sword? I know you won't be around to supervise…"

"Taka will be with Jujikei, yes?"

"Um…"

"No," cut in Hikitsuri. "Jujikei skipped out the Shinobi Corps to become a baker. He's not on my team anymore."

I whipped around and stared at him. "One of these days," I said, "you're going to be serious and I'm not even going to know." Strange that he would lie so often and never expect anyone to believe him, a different sort of hiding than I was used to. "Jujikei is the man with the swords?"

Nagi-sensei nodded. "Juji can handle Taka almost as well as she," she said, voice verging on sing-song. "Fight freely."

"Thanks," I said sincerely, slinging a pack of loose items over my shoulder, wincing as they jangled discordantly. That would have to be fixed, especially since I presumed this would be a stealth mission. "Bye, Nagi-sensei."

"She wishes you well, Taka!" Nagi said cheerily, and waved us out, flashing Gaara a wink and Hikitsuri an acknowledging smile. "And she hopes Chi-chi returns safe."

-o-

I stopped to see Isane for a quick farewell, too, and then the three of us returned to rendezvous with the rest of Hikitsuri's squad. We departed Suna through the rock tunnels, no longer so secret since the Ame-nin had come to Sunagakure. I suspected now that Aburas father had been the man that they had followed so impossibly long ago; no shinobi would be careless enough to allow a tail. Perhaps the earth jutsu masters who maintained the tunnels had changed the entrances by now, rendering them safe again.

I'd been in the tunnels only once before, during the field trip all Academy students had to take. Then, as now, I'd found the close walls and the flickering shadows cast by torchlight comforting, an almost-embrace that was not conducive to ambushes or exposure.

"So," I asked as we traveled, almost afraid to break the silence and deciding I might as well talk while we were still safe. "Which one of you has known Chie-sensei the longest?"

Hikitsuri's hand went up; I took a few steps in silence as I tried to determine if he would have been old enough to _walk_ when Chie-sensei was in the Academy. If I had known Chie's age, I might have had better luck.

"Did she change your diapers, Hiki?" Jujikei asked neutrally, the first words I'd heard him utter.

"You," said Jemini accusingly, masking a grin, "you are suggesting nasty things about Chie's age."

"And about what she's had on her hands," Jujikei said. "Since I doubt Hiki's diapers were very clean."

Jemini caught my stare and winked. "Fear not, he can say that because he's had all the same things on his hands."

"At the same time, too," said Hikitsuri. "They fought over who would have my diapers after."

I glanced at Gaara, whose eyes were narrowed just slightly in what I guessed was confusion. "They're joking," I assured him.

"They're not laughing," he said quietly.

"Sometimes people say things they don't mean," I said, "but it's not lying because they're only kidding."

"What's… the difference?"

"One is meant in fun," I said, "and one is meant to hide and to deceive. To hurt."

And then I closed my mouth, hating what I'd just said, hating what I'd just admitted to myself. Hating that it didn't matter, because it wasn't going to make me stop.


	106. CHAPTER 100: A Landmark

A/N: This is it, guys… this is chapter 100. This chapter is just under 10,500 words long, the longest yet, for sure. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Oh - a painting to celebrate: http:/ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Sand-in-Shadow-276841783

Really… I'm not going to be too sappy, I promise, but I just never thought—almost four years ago now—that this would go so far. 100 chapters, more than 1000 reviews, and all these wonderful readers. You guys are worth it! All my best wishes for the new year—and enjoy

_**CHAPTER 100!**_

-Kit

-o-

The necessity for stealth lengthened the travel time to our destination—which I assumed was Iwagakure, though nobody had actually told me this. Rather than racing speedily across the landscape, we had to constrain ourselves to the low places and the dark places, which slowed us down. We arrived at Iwa's borders after two weeks; I suspected we'd also taken a circuitous route so as to lose pursuit.

Who would be tailing us, I couldn't decide, and I couldn't really fathom the reason for the excessive stealth, either. Did Suna simply not want anyone to know what they suspected a traitor? Did they think Chie would be exploited, did they think they would look weak?

But at this point, I refused to accept that Chie-sensei could actually be a traitor. The look in her eyes as she said she was sorry—her gaze had said she was coming back.

But the jōnin refused to answer any questions, evading all inquires with frustrating spates of sideways joking and teasing eyes. Gaara still didn't comprehend the moral differences between kidding and lying, but I'd run out of ideas for explaining it. After trying desperately to muddle my way through it, I suggested he pay attention to the jōnin squad to see if he could fathom the difference himself.

We huddled now just outside Iwa, on the edge of a cliff, secrets in a stone cave carved out by Jemini's Earth Style. An uncomfortable chill pervaded the walls; Gaara moved closer to me as I shivered, but his proximity did nothing to calm my shaking.

"No," said Jemini, voice low, though the rock contained her words. "We've had shinobi in Iwa before. The man Chie was meeting, we know him. We know he's _from_ Iwagakure. But we can find no trace of him or Chie."

"If you _know_ he's from Iwa," I began, "wouldn't they have made a point not to go to where they'd be easily found?"

"Yes of course," said Hikitsuri. "That's why we've wasted so much time searching the city. Because we didn't think of that."

"All it took was a lowly genin to point out our mistake," said Jujikei blandly, then gave me a scathing look. "We're amateurs, you know."

"Hiki and Jujikei," cut in Jemini with the slightest hint of a suppressed smile, "they don't know when to stop being cruel. But in this case, Takara-chan, we have reason to believe Chie will not be working to avoid us with that level of effort."

"Why?" I pounced on the hint of hope like a cat. "You don't believe Chie-sensei's really a traitor, do you?"

Jemini tapped her fingers, bound separately with free laces, on the stone above her head. "The walls," she said, with the thinnest of sad smiles, "they have ears."

"Did anyone try just waltzing in and asking?"

"Yes," said Jemini, before Hikitsuri or Jujikei could snark at me. "Iwa insists they have no knowledge of a Kuraho Dai, and he is certainly not one of their diplomats."

"Did he give the wrong village name? To throw us off?"

Jemini grinned gently and said, "Don't question it, Takara-chan, but we are quite certain that Chie intended to go to and stay in Iwagakure. We just have to find where."

"Unless," started Gaara, and his voice was quiet but everyone stopped to listen. The jōnin may not have been young enough to know all the stories of the child-monster, but they were well aware of the danger in the demon of the sand. "—her intentions did not become… reality."

"It's great, the way you keep throwing out these theories," said Jujikei with the slightest hint of irritation. "Because two genin are quite likely to stumble onto something that teams of jōnin and the Council itself have missed."

"You, Juji," said Jemini reproachfully, "the Council assigned Takara to us for a reason."

"And that reason is to provide us with a cute little puppy and her more intimidating guard dog," said Hikitsuri brightly. "I know I wanted a pet to bring on missions."

"The Inuzuka clan of Konoha relies on its pets," I snapped. "Maybe you should give us a chance."

"I trust you," he assured me in a flat out lie. "You've given me countless reasons to do so."

"Have I given you any reasons to _not?"_

A slow smile, so at odds with his usual deadpan expression and hint of a taunt, spread across his face and he said softly, "You lied."

I froze, and a sharp _when_ of protest leapt to my lips—but I knew when, knew he could counter that argument and I could not prove my innocence. "Practically every word out of your mouth is a lie," I said casually, forcibly injecting calm into my voice. "Is this your new style of joking around? Accusing your temporary teammates of untrustworthiness?"

"Hiki," said Jemini, loudly and sharply. My head jerked around, and I saw sand slithering across Gaara's back to settle restlessly at his fingertips.

_I'm not blind in all this_, I wanted to tell him, but I bit down on the retort. Scowling, I moved a step back to stand next to Gaara, and Hiki's expression returned to a pleasantly normal state.

"Everywhere, we've looked," Jemini said, faint scowl remaining about her eyebrows. "Except the Kage's office. And that, that's impossible. You'd need to be able to walk through walls to get in there."

"Ah," I said. "I can do that."

Eyebrows shot up all around and I rendered the group almost as silent as Gaara's threatening presence did. "That seems likely," said Jujikei dryly, and Jemini tapped the stone above her head once again, mouthing the word, _Ears. _

I shrugged and offered half a grin. "Of course it isn't," I said. "Did you think I was serious? But since nobody was telling me what we were going to do, I thought I'd contribute." Quickly, I glanced at Gaara and shook my head, whipping hair into my eyes. He eyed me a moment, then nodded what I hoped was understanding.

We retreated, moving away from the danger of proximity until Hikitsuri assured us we were safe from prying ears. I wasn't sure, but I thought he might have done something with the wind to carry our voices away; the breeze twisted oddly around us, fluttering my hair and dancing over my skin as I had never experienced before.

"I will help," said Gaara, cutting across Jemini's immediate flurry of planning. She ground to a halt and said, "Me, I'm hoping it doesn't come to a fight."

"It will," said Jujikei.

Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "No."

"No? No, you don't think it'll come to a fight?"

Sand spasmed just out of his grasp; one hand twitched, as if wishing to close around someone's throat. "I'll go with you," he said to Jemini, though his gaze fixed on me after the words had left his mouth. My heart dropped a little, but I knew he didn't believe he could walk through walls with me; I hadn't mentioned to the squad that I could take others into the shadows. For that matter, I didn't even know if I could bring them through solid objects with me, and on an important mission didn't seem the best time to experiment. "You said… you would pretend," Gaara continued. "To be a diplomat?"

"Gaara-sama," I said softly, stepping closer and hesitantly touching his sleeve. "Diplomats… lie. They're… tricky." I swallowed, searching frantically for words that wouldn't insult or confuse. "I don't think that's really your specialty."

He paused, then nodded. "I will not speak. But I wish to know."

Blinking, I tried to puzzle out why, and resolved to ask him later. For the moment, Jemini cut in, sounding intrigued and truly disappointed to say, "So sorry, but you, you're too recognizable as the

-" He seemed to know that she passed over the word _demon_, instead settling reluctantly on "—Shukaku of the Sand Village. You're a weapon to them, not a tool for diplomacy."

"How can I learn then? I wish to change this."

"Start slowly," Jemini advised, looking startled. "First, prove to your own village that you can be trusted."

"Then," said Hiitsuri, "beat them up until they believe you."

"Don't listen to Hiki," interposed Jujikei, surprising me with what I took to be honesty in his tone. It was difficult to tell—I still had work to do, on discerning other people's lies—but he seemed to actually support Gaara in this.

"In fact," said Jemini cheerily, "don't _ever_ listen to Hiki." She offered Gaara a grin and said, "Me, I think you've already changed. Otherwise, I suspect we'd all be dead."

His hands twitched; he clenched them into fists as if to repress the surge of bloodlust or memory, and gave her a short nod in return. "Next time," he said.

"Sure thing," said Jemini. "For now, be sure I'll work you into the plan."

And she did. Then she and the other jōnin worked us into Iwagakure with a fancy bit of jutsu, involving Jemini's specialty—clones—as well as transformation, earth style, and absolutely no hanging upside down from bridges whatsoever.

Next thing I knew, we were in the Kage's tower, and no one even knew we didn't belong.

And _that_, I thought with a certain smug satisfaction, was what being a ninja was _about_.

-o-

Somewhere along Suna's previous infiltrations of Iwa, someone had acquired a floor plan of the Tsuchikage's residence. The result of this was a clear route to the Kage's office, which began with me three floors up in a janitor's closet, sliding out of sight and working my way through various walls, ceilings, and floors to bypass locks and guards.

The problem, however, was that while I was invisible, I still had to _breathe_. I still made noise; I still used up chakra. I masked my chakra signature as best I could, but the simultaneous drain of hiding, shifting through the shadows, climbing down walls, and veiling my chakra use had me quickly panting with exhaustion. My arms shook as I clung to a ceiling in its corner shadows, threatening to let me fall onto the oblivious shinobi guard below me.

His short stature and young face seemed to indicate that he was either genin or chūnin, and thus offering up only a mild skirmish, though one that would undoubtedly still draw attention to me. However, as he turned around, whistling, I caught the glimpse of the ANBU tattoo on the side of his neck, where the Iwagakure ANBU core earned placed theirs, and knew I would be dead in seconds if I dropped.

I took very shallow, calming breaths, forcing myself to stop shaking as I very slightly increased the flow of chakra to my hands and feet so that I clung more securely to the ceiling. I had intended to jump to the floor in this room and then slide through into the next, from which it would be only one more shift to the Kage's office. Unfortunately, I doubted I could land quietly enough to avoid alerting this unexpected ANBU.

Clearly, I needed to make a decision soon, before my chakra made it for me. I could either go back up a floor or drop and risk alerting the ANBU to my descent.

Or I could attempt the very tricky process of moving through the wall while I cloaked myself _and_ stayed attached to the ceiling.

My breathing kicked up again, weariness mixing with anxiety as I debated my ability to multitask. Two jutsu at a time was hard enough, but three?

I knew I couldn't go up and over, since the room directly above the Kage's office was known to hold several shinobi guards I wouldn't be able to evade. Chancing a very deep breath, as silent as I could make it, I prodded at the last dregs of my well of chakra and bled them into the shadow.

My vision wavered, and the desperate fear struck me that I might run out of chakra halfway through the three-foot thick wall, leaving me stuck in cold, unyielding stone. My fingers slipped; I slammed chakra back into them, reattaching myself to the ceiling, and nearly letting my cloak of shade slide away from me.

Verging on hyperventilating, sight spinning, I flung myself into the shadow-coated stone, spreading chakra around me as if I could liquidate the rock wall, clutching at the ceiling like I would melt handholds into its face.

I emerged onto the other side, gasping wildly, and skidded toward the ground, just barely veiled in shadows and otherwise not at all hidden. I thought I would be safe—the jōnin had assured me that only the outside of the Kage's office would be guarded, that their ruse of diplomacy would lure everyone out of the room itself, but I had managed to forget one thing in all this: I was bait.

Jemini had made her plan seem so reasonable, but it wasn't her real plan after all. In fact, she wanted me caught, because no matter how firmly it was quieted, a break-in to the Tsuchikage's office would be noticed and spread, and if Chie-sensei were here, she would hear of it, hear a general description of the intruder, and come for me.

The thump I had made upon landing did not go unnoticed by the six ANBU stationed around the room. They all straightened at the sound, immediately alert, and I doubted very much I would have time to rifle through the Kage's files for notes on Chie's location before I was caught.

Still, I tried. Shaking, I scrabbled at my final vestiges of chakra to strengthen my gloomy veil and scuttled toward the desk.

I made it all the way to the shadows beneath the bureau, peering over the top of the desk, before a gloved hand fumbled at my collar. Flinching, I groped for a kunai, fighting as the hand latched onto the back of my shirt and dragged me into the light.

Blinking at the abrupt luminosity of the room, I whipped around and lashed out at the ANBU with the weapon. I shouldn't have bothered; he caught my hand easily, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and twisting the kunai from my grip. I reached for my chakra in order to fade away, found nothing to meet my call. I was drained, robbed of the shadows and any hope of escape, and it occurred to me then that Jemini's proposed route _had_ seemed rather unreasonably long and twisted, as if she hoped to exhaust my chakra under the guise of helping me avoid any enemies.

I kicked out toward the ANBU's ankle and grazed armor before he had finished nimbly avoiding the blow. I was unreasonably overmatched by this one shinobi, and he was surrounded by five more of his caliber who would ensure my inability to escape.

Shortly thereafter, my hands were wired behind my back, I was pinned to the wall, and a sword kissed my throat.

"Are you a _genin_?" asked one of the ANBU incredulously.

"Chūnin," I snapped.

"Still don't see how you got in here," he muttered, hauling me to my feet. I struggled uselessly, attempting to kick my way free until he slid his arm under my knees and lifted me entirely off the ground while one of his partners looped more ninja wire around my ankles. At this point, it was a fight to stay conscious, as my empty chakra stores rose up to chastise me vengefully.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, closing my eyes and concentrating intently on consciousness.

"To the deepest darkest dungeon until someone has time to interrogate you," my porter informed me.

"I'm afraid of the dark," I muttered.

"Then," he said, "we'll go to the highest brightest dungeon tower until someone has time to interrogate you."

A swell of nausea swept over me; it was a good thing I was being carried, since if I were standing, I probably would have collapsed. "I changed my mind," I said, "I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm afraid of heights."

"Ah," said the only other ANBU who had accompanied us from the Kage's office, forcing her lips into a smile despite the jagged scar that dragged down half of her face. "We have a liar on our hands."

I swallowed hard and succumbed to dark unconsciousness in disgrace. _If you're going to be a liar_, I thought blearily as I faded, _don't ever go back on your words. _

How had I managed to forget?

-o-

I woke in another tower—or at least I presumed it was a tower, based solely on the ANBU's promises. The room was circular, the only thing resembling windows a line of slits the width of two fingers placed at least four feet above my head, just below the ceiling. I couldn't even tell where the door was; they'd masked it somehow, leaving me completely disoriented as to potential points of escape.

Testing my jutsu, I found it sealed, so even if my chakra were restored, I had no way to use it. Idly, bitterly, I wondered if Jemini were spreading the rumor herself—if she whispered that the intruder in the Tsuchikage's office was being tortured, was to be executed, in order to draw Chie out.

In fact, they didn't torture me at all, except with the waiting. I paced alone, seeing no one, always suspecting the interrogation would come. Apparently, a lowly genin—or chūnin, if they still believed that—who hadn't actually taken anything was not enough of a threat to warrant attention for a few days. Someone always left food when I slept; I began to suspect genjutsu, since they never left a meal when I was only pretending to sleep.

I took to settling against the wall and prodding at the seal on my chakra, watching the days pass in nervous anticipation and waiting for some sort of news from the outside. Finally, after several days—I thought it had been a week—I let out a quiet hiss of triumph as I felt the chakra seal snap.

Minutes later, Gaara came through the door.

It turned out the exit was hidden behind me; only reflex had me leaping away from the wall at the blast. A wave of sand still washed over me in a gritty embrace; I flailed against it until it relaxed, then turned carefully, skidding in the miniature desert my cell had become.

"I am sorry I took so long," Gaara said, stepping halfway through the door and pausing. "I was… distracted."

I hesitated, about to ask _by what_, then said, "Gaara-sama, I'm just glad to see you." He bore a handful of cuts across his face and arms, meaning he'd had a serious fight to reach me, and I felt vaguely guilty for the injury I'd indirectly caused. "Thank you," I added. "My next plan involved climbing down the outside of the tower."

"I… would have liked to see."

Again, I hesitated, starting to think I was missing something, then agreed, "It would have been pretty impressive," with half a smile. "Do we have a plan now?"

"Battle the reinforcements."

"Should be fun," I muttered, and glanced up in time to see the end of Gaara's fleeting smile. I blinked, then grinned. "Do _we_ have reinforcements?"

"Yes."

I stepped forward, and Gaara's hand lifted slightly to some unknown purpose. Stopping abruptly, I tried to puzzle it out, cycling through an array of impossibilities before I realized sand slid away from my feet, swirling back into his gourd. A faint sheen of red stained the retreating gold, and I wondered how many guards I'd warranted—and how many of them had died at Gaara's hand.

The sand restored, his hand hovered in the air for a moment; I resisted the urge to reach out and take it while he stared directly at me, gaze cool—but not unwelcoming, cool like the last swig of water in the desert. I shook off the feeling, looking away and past him through the doorway.

Gaara rotated, surveying me over his shoulder to make sure I was coming, and I quickly stepped up to stand a few paces behind him. "In my shadow?" he inquired, and I faltered.

"Do you mind?" I asked.

"No," he said. "They will not see you coming."

"Then I've got your back," I assured him, and faded into newly-restored chakra and unexpected darkness to prepare to fight our way down the stairs.

-o-

In fact, I had to let the jutsu dissolve halfway to the ground level, unable to concentrate on Shadow Possession and kunai all at once. I used the moment to my full advantage, drawing my sword and exploding from Gaara's slowly shifting shadow to take a shinobi through the chest.

I didn't stop to think, whirling on the next adversary with my blade flailing out to taste cloth and skin. It didn't move with the grace I would have liked, didn't dance as Nagi-sensei's weapons always did, but it wounded well enough, and I didn't cut my own hand off or anything, so I counted it a success.

A few minutes later, we met up with the jōnin squad. As much as I knew they'd essentially betrayed me, I was glad to see them; sweat and blood dragged my eyelids down, until I could hardly see my opponents, and the lash of various ninja weapons had opened an array of wounds over my exposed skin. Gaara fared better, with his nearly impenetrable defenses and the speed-infused motions of his sand, but I expected he didn't have much chakra left for deliberate attacks.

"Tell me you have a plan to get us out of here," I demanded. "I don't want to fight my way out of Iwa."

"You're the invisible girl," said Hikitsuri. "We were counting on you to get us out."

He grinned in response to my glare and Jemini said flippantly, "Us? Of course we have a plan."

This plan, of course, couldn't begin to be enacted until we had skirmished our way from the tower. Bleeding, battered, and breathing heavily, we burst into the sunlight, and Jemini proceeded to work her brilliant mind to work an escape from Iwagakure without losing any lives.

"Wow," I muttered, as we crept along a cliff face toward freedom. "I can't wait to be a jōnin."

"By the time you've survived this long," Jujikei agreed, "you learn to survive a little longer."

-o-

Leaning back against cool stone, far from Iwagakure though the landscape remained much the same, I slid down to the ground and let the exhaustion make its pass. Closing my eyes halfway, I watched Gaara in my peripheral vision as his sand armor reformed, golden grains recoiling slightly from the cuts that bedecked his skin.

"So," Jemini said finally, reluctantly. "We've determined Chie is not in Iwa." She looked disheartened at the admission, and perhaps the tiniest bit guilty for causing my capture in exchange for nothing.

"No," I agreed. "I could've told you that, if you'd stuck to the plan. She's in Kusagakure."

Jemini sat bolt upright, turning her stare on me. "Me, I won't ask why you didn't say anything sooner—"

"But why didn't you say anything sooner?" interjected Hikitsuri, deadpan. I didn't grace that with an answer.

"—but how, _how_ do you know this?"

"I infiltrated the Tsuchikage's office, remember?" I said. "There was a letter on his desk." I allowed myself a small grin of triumph. "She's being _held_. I _knew_ Chie-sensei wasn't a traitor."

"Unless it's a false trail," suggested Jujikei quietly. I refused to let my spirits dampen.

"Juji," Jemini sighed, "it's the only lead we have. Hiki?"

The young jōnin nodded, fidgeting in his sleeve for a small object I couldn't get a clear view of. He scribbled on it; a few hand seals later, the wind snatched it away, tossing it over the breeze and, presumably, toward Suna and the Council.

A week more had us mired in grass and shaded by mushrooms the size of horses, which were frankly terrifying. I kept expecting toxic insects to get a little too friendly, as they'd tried during the Chūnin Exams in Konoha. In fact, in the face of these trees—whose widths resembled that of my house—I wondered how Konoha could claim the title of _Hidden in the Leaves_ when Kusa's forest was so much more impressive.

"You," said Jemini, jerking her head back to sparkle her eyes at me, "do you know _where_ Chie is being held?"

"I didn't get a chance to read the rest of the letter," I said mournfully, "seeing as I was misinformed about the presence of guards." This was not strictly true; I'd skimmed the whole thing, and now knew a great deal more about the situation than the jōnin wanted. I had resolved to never let Abura know the details, made easier by the fact that he probably wouldn't ask.

"Alright," said Jemini, settling onto an enormous tree root. "Me, I have a plan."

"No," I said. Jemini gave me a very astonished look, and I continued, "_I_ have a plan."

"Marvelous," said Hikitsuri sincerely. "The genin are making our plans now. I'm thrilled to be surviving this mission."

I snapped him a glare and very dearly wanted to tell him that I was tired of his sass, but refrained. I had to keep truth to myself now after all. "If _I_ plan," I emphasized, "I don't use myself as bait. And my plan doesn't involve you betraying me either."

"Perfect," agreed Hikitsuri, nodding. "Jōnin never have backup plans."

"How do you work with him?" I asked the air at random.

"I'm going deaf," Jujikei informed me. "On purpose."

Folding her arms and arcing an eyebrow to accompany a grin, Jemini inquired, "Alright, Takara-chan, what's this plan?"

I opened my mouth, then hesitated, having been lying like a lazy cat when I said I had a plan. I thought quickly; I still had one technique I hadn't put to use, using the shadows as my eyes, and Chie-sensei was likely to be imprisoned somewhere dark and shadowy, right? It would take a while, but I could presumably search enough buildings to find her. As for getting us inside Kusa without attracting suspicion—

At that moment, my head whipped around; I'd glimpsed motion in the forest, and I was sure a pair of eyes. Jujikei had already moved, blurring past me and into the shade, returning with a small girl in his grip. She couldn't have been more than six, with bright sky blue eyes and cropped red hair; I noticed that Jujikei held her securely but gently, her tiny hands clutched in one of his while he perched her on his other arm. She didn't fight his grasp, but gaze solemnly at the five of us; Hikitsuri and Gaara had both gone stiff at the sight of the child, and I couldn't fathom Hikitsuri's reaction, but I wondered if Gaara was remembering the fear the children had always regarded him with.

"They don't know you here, Gaara-sama," I said softly, and his eyes flicked to me with a strange expression—one I couldn't read.

"Children don't know anything," Hikitsuri said dismissively. His tone was so brusque I stared at him in shock, suspecting he was actually being serious for once—though something told me, somehow, that he was lying. Not joking, just lying.

"Children," I said, recalling plenty of years hiding on the staircase listening to my mother gossip, "know a _lot." _I edged closer to Jujikei and the girl; the jōnin eyed me as if he thought I planned to hurt her.

"Hello," I said pleasantly. "What's your name?"

"Sieru," she said clearly, then looked stricken and struggled briefly against Jujikei's hold as if she wanted to clap a hand over her mouth. "I mean Sia," she told us hastily, nodding very quickly.

I grinned widely and said, "Well, my name's Kori," and raised my eyebrows at her. She regarded me for a moment, then whispered, "That's not your real name, is it?"

"As real as Sia," I assured her, then glanced up at Jujikei. He seemed to know his way around children—or so I hoped—but I was more than twice this girl's age, and not accustomed to dealing with those much younger than me. Jujikei's arced eyebrow and encouraging nod seemed to indicate I was either handling a very tolerant child, or I was doing something right.

"Sia-chan," I began, "have you heard of any new kunoichi in Kusagakure? She might be in trouble."

"That's specific," Hikitsuri muttered, but Sieru opened her mouth.

She paused, then said, "Blue hair. Pretty lady."

I nodded enthusiastically, though Hikitsuri seemed about to protest—likely something about the commonness of blue-haired pretty ladies. I ignored him, forging on while Jemini kicked him. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yeah," said Sieru. "But she said I could only tell Aru or Kori."

Well. Good thing Chie-sensei knew me. Good thing I was a liar without a real name.

"Alright," I announced, allowing myself a grin in Gaara's direction for no good reason. "New plan. We follow Sia."

"You're good," the girl told me. "Everybody _else_ always forgets my new name when they know my real one."

"That, that's not much of a plan," Jemini said.

"Fair enough," I acceded, then shrugged. "We just have to look like normal travelers. Put away our weapons and stuff." The jōnin were halfway through transforming before I'd finished speaking. Hikitsuri's modified vest reversed into a civilian's sleeveless jacket; Jujikei, setting Sieru at his feet, drew his swords, partially collapsed the blades, and sheathed them in a hip holster, to which he added an array of pens as if he were a scribe. Jemini pulled her hair into a tail and pulsed a bit of chakra into her appearance, making her a redhead with green eyes and paling her skin from its desert tan to a milky white that rivaled Gaara's for pallor. The squad continued preparing as I finished, until I faced three people who bore a vague resemblance to the Suna-nin I knew, and absolutely no resemblance to shinobi—besides the scars, besides that depth to their eyes.

"Gaara," said Jemini, and he looked up. "He's too distinctive."

"I'll take him and Sia with me," I said, hoping I could hide the both of them in addition to myself. I couldn't recall ever cloaking more than two people before. Well, Sieru was small—perhaps she wouldn't count. "We'll go in dark."

Hikitsuri folded his arms, wearing a neutral expression that I took to mean he was still very unhappy that Jemini was even pretending to go along with my hastily-designed 'plan.' "You did an excellent job of mentioning earlier that you could take others with you."

"Yes," I said, just an edge of acerbity to my tone that I could no longer hold back. "And you did a great job of mentioning that you were going to throw me to the wolves in the Tsuchikage's office."

"I expect the torture did you good, though," he said nastily.

"I wasn't tortured," I snapped. "Other than with waiting for you."

He smiled just slightly and arced a dark eyebrow. "Of course you weren't," he said, puzzlingly. Before I could rise to the comment, he went on, "And after we gaily stroll into Kusa while you slink off with Sieru—"

"Sia," she insisted.

"—I suppose the three of us will go out for ramen while you singlehandedly rescue Chie."

"If you like," I said irritably. "But it would be more helpful if you could make a diversion."

"Diversions, they're amateur tactics," interjected Jemini. "Go the opposite direction of the diversion, everyone knows."

"Then create a diversion right next to us?" I suggested.

"You're really good at plans," Hikitsuri said. "They should promote you right away."

"Hiki," said Jemini. "She's got to learn sometime."

"And that time obviously has to be when Chie's life is on the line."

"She's not just yours, Hiki," said Jujikei quietly. "She was our squadmate before she was your rescuer."

"I appreciate you making vague allusions to my past, Juji, but I think next time you should come right out and say it."

"I'll keep that in mind next time your being a night-rotted excuse for a slug comes up, Hiki."

Hikitsuri snickered unwillingly, then reined his expression back to his normal deadpan. "I could be a sand-poxed skeleton of a rat like you," he said sincerely, "so I'll count myself lucky to be a slug in your eyes, Juji."

"Chie said," Sieru announced suddenly, "that when Kori came it would be _urgent_."

"Surrender," I said quickly.

"What?" said Jemini.

"Go to the Kage—Kusa has a Kage, right?—and tell him you surrender your claim to Chie-sensei. Say the search for her is causing too much of a drain on Suna's resources and—politics—"

"And with a new Kazekage coming to power, you just want peace between the villages," Gaara suggested quietly. We all turned to look, and after a few minutes, I asked, "…is there? A new Kazekage coming to power?"

He shrugged slightly. "They must choose eventually. And it will… keep them guessing. About who it will be." He blinked, and I thought I saw a smile in his eyes.

Silence reigned for a moment; following no disagreements from the jōnin, I nodded, clamping down on an unnecessary wild grin. The urge to smile, however, slid away as Jemini inquired, "Then, what about Kuraho Dai?"

"What about him?" I said uneasily.

"If we meet him, what do we do?" she asked, as if I were really leading her through this.

I wavered, then said stonily, "Prevent him from returning to Sunagakure."

"At all costs?" asked Jujikei. "That includes d—"

He glanced down at Sieru, who was stretching to scratch her back, which made an odd jangling noise. "I know the word 'death,' Mister," she told him solemnly. He frowned and reached down, grabbing her hand away from her itch and tugging the back of her collar away from her neck. Releasing her, he curled his hands around her sides and shook her slightly, so that a handful of kunai clattered against each other into the grass.

"Are you even old enough to be in the Academy?" he demanded as she dropped to her knees and scurried to reassemble her weapons. I was reminded powerfully of Eiri for a second, and closed my eyes, just briefly, to ward off the memories.

"Old enough to be a ninja," she retorted, then looked at me. "Kori, she said _urgent_."

I nodded and held out my hand to her; having restored all her kunai to their proper concealed positions, she curled her tiny fingers, one of which she had cut on a blade, around my own slightly larger ones. Turning to Gaara, I hesitated, then held out my free hand to him. The shadow concealment didn't necessarily _require_ contact, but as long as I didn't tell him it did, I wasn't really _lying_ to him.

For a moment, I hated myself for this weaving dance of not-quite-lying I had just started to play with _Gaara_, of all people. It was one misstep from truth to lies, and I was just about to drop my hand away again when he reached out and accepted it.

Involuntarily, I squeezed Sieru's hand, though I managed to keep my grip on Gaara's relatively normal. His fingers closed uncertainly, as if he didn't know what was too loose or too tight, and a thrill plunged down my throat as I pointed us in the direction of nearby Kusagakure, gathering up the chakra to make us disappear.

Jemini hopped off her tree root and set a hand on my shoulder as she went by. "_Boss_, at all costs?" she asked quietly. "Death, is that an option?"

_Yes_ was the first word that raged through my head, remembering the pain in Abura's eyes at the sight of—the thought of—his father. But—I had grown up with a dead father, and I didn't want to do that to Abura, too, no matter how much he professed to hatred of his dad. Worse was what rose in my mind when I imagined how he would feel learning I had ordered—_ordered_ being a word not exactly sincere here—the death of his father.

"No," I said finally. "Be creative in keeping him away."

"Yes, _ma'am_," Jemini said, with a hint of a grin and a flippant half-salute. "But, you do realize I have my own plan for rescuing Chie, right?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm just a genin." I nudged Sieru in the shoulder with my elbow and offered her a conspiratorial grin, then said, "But good luck finding her without Sia."

"She won't," Sieru assured me. "Unless the _urgent_'s already got her."

I wanted to ask what that meant, but if this _urgent_ posed a danger, I decided we'd already wasted enough time talking—and I counted on Gaara to save us from any and all dangerous urgents. I returned my gaze to him, said, "Keep close to me," and dragged the three of us down into the crossed shadows of the forest's gargantuan, fungus-infested trees.

-o-

Sieru led us into cover just as I felt my chakra beginning to strain. She told us to wait and slipped out of the cover of my shadows before I could protest, scurrying down a sewer tunnel that even I would've had trouble fitting through. I settled against a damp stone wall and thinned my jutsu to a veil, so Gaara and I were covered by a dark haze rather than a complete cloak of invisibility.

"Your plan," said Gaara finally, keeping his voice soft, though I doubted anyone would find us, since I suspected we were in the sewer. "It is… full of lies."

I winced and leaned my head back to stare at an upward angle. "Yes."

"I… understand lies," he said. "But you said lies are to hurt."

"I also said they were to hide," I pointed out, keeping my words just as quiet. "I didn't necessarily mean both at once." I sighed, recognizing what he was really asking and not wanting to answer it. Did I want to hurt everyone I lied to, then? I shoved the consideration away and pretended I didn't comprehend the question in his statement.

"But in this case… I guess I want to hurt them, the people who took my sensei."

"I don't care about my sensei." He said it flatly, without bitterness or regret.

"No reason why you should," I muttered, then added hastily, "I mean—you should care for your sensei, but Baki never did anything for you—oh." I stopped, aggravated. "I'm a bad moral advisor. I don't mean you should dislike everyone who isn't automatically kind to you, I just—" I paused again, allowing myself a few deep breaths to start over.

"_I_ care about you, Gaara-sama," I said softly. "So it frustrates me when—that he wasn't kind to you."

Sieru saved me by returning, squeezing up through the well-hidden tunnel and popping back into sight. "Had to get the password," she informed me, and took my hand. "Am I invisible again?"

"Hang on." Tugging at my chakra, I restored the shade across the three of us, feeling much better for the rest, though a bit worn-out from stumbling through morality with Gaara. "Now we're all hidden."

I looked back at Gaara, met his eyes through the gloom, and realized his hand wasn't in mine. He knew, then, that I hadn't needed it in the first place to hide him away. The lies flashed through my head—that I needed to make a connection so I could, in the future, cloak him without contact; that I knew him better than I thought, and the closer I was to someone, the easier it was to conceal them; that I—

I shut them down and said quietly, "You're switching teams, right, Gaara-sama? Maybe your new sensei will be better."

Then I turned away, stepping close to the wall as Sieru dragged us downward, through sewer tunnels and then rougher, smaller channels, until we came up against a slightly wider warren and a metal grate.

The space was so narrow that both Gaara and I had to crouch, and Gaara's gourd had shrunk away throughout the journey until waves of sand trailed after us through the earth as his back scraped against the dirt. A tiny boy waited for us there, his long blond hair matted with knots and his eyes so wide I thought they would pop out of his head. Sieru whispered something in his ear; he nodded very slowly, and deliberately rotated to face the grating.

Sieru grinned. "That's Tuko," she whispered. "He's too young to talk very much."

I wanted to ask if he had kunai, too, perhaps shuriken cached in his clothing—but she was gone, pushing past Gaara, who flinched at her nonchalant contact and used his limited range of motion to turn and watch her go. Tuko raised his fist and pressed it against the bars of the grate; the rust ran like blood, and the metal seeped away into the dirt.

He wobbled, drained, and instinctively I reached out to stabilize him. He cringed, needles lunging unexpectedly from his skin. My hand closed around his wrist, earning me metal through the palm and several sharp points of agony; I jerked away, ripping the spines free while biting down on an array of pained sounds and unable to resist a yelp of anguish, and the needles descended back into his skin.

I stared, wiping the blood on my pants. Gaara stirred behind me, and I hoped it wasn't the scent of blood arousing the demon; there wasn't space for a Shukaku in this miniscule hole beneath the ground.

Tuko ducked through the hole and nearly toppled over the ledge, disappearing. I peered after him and found Chie-sensei looking up at me, tiny child held in her arms.

"I see _you_ didn't get the acupuncture treatment," I said.

"He trusts me," said Chie-sensei, and then broke into a weary grin. Red lacerated her face, skin streaked with dried blood; her clothes were grimy and torn, and I caught sight of dark bruises staining the exposed flesh beneath. One hand shook slightly even as it clutched Tuko, and her thick, beautiful hair was a tangled halo around her head, matted and filthy.

"I don't think you should look that happy to see me, Sensei," I said shakily, clenching my fists in the dirt ledge so it crumbled, raining a bit of soil down toward Chie. "Not since I took so long."

"I suspect it wasn't your fault, Takara-chan." She nodded me back and reached to set Tuko back on the shelf. "Now we can begin, people. Can you make me a clone, Takara? My chakra is sealed."

"Oh," I said, allowing myself a measure of pride. "I learned how to break those."

Chie-sensei looked startled, then smiled. "Impressive," she acknowledged, and her smile turned dry. "But they've undoubtedly sealed me with a much stronger one than you."

Scooting back and nearly running into Gaara, I settled onto my heels and summoned up a clone and a transformation. The fake Chie-sensei was probably a little shorter than necessary—maybe a bit less battered—and her clothing wasn't _quite_ the right shades of blue, but she proclaimed it passable; it wouldn't need to work for long, anyway.

"Gaara-san," she acknowledged, hoisting herself up onto the ledge as we pushed ourselves farther back. "I'm glad you came."

He nodded slightly, and she turned to look at Tuko. The child brought the grate back up with a serious effort, then clung to the shredded hem of Chie's dress as she gestured us toward the tunnel toward open air.

-o-

My chakra started to wear thin painfully quickly as we emerged into Kusagakure proper and I had to hide four people while Chie-sensei led us on a winding journey through the creepier alleys. My job was made easier by the darkness that already cloaked the narrow streets, but the effort of drawing it across the large group had me dragging behind—and they forged blithely on, hardly able to see me, invisible as I was.

Finally, we stopped, and Chie-sensei stepped free of my jutsu, Tuko still clinging to her clothing and scurrying after her with wobbly steps that seemed about to send him toppling each time he took one. I took Chie's emergence as permission to drop the jutsu entirely and collapsed from a crouch to a little black puddle of exhaustion against the grimy stone wall.

Gaara crouched down beside me and hesitated, then settled his hand on my shoulder. "You… did this for me once," he said, and I felt chakra slide into my system, gritty with unfamiliarity and suffusing me with enough strength to sit up.

"Thank you," I said, mustering a grin for him and forcing myself not to let it run wildly out of control at the trust Gaara had just placed in me with his chakra. I glanced toward Chie-sensei and found that Jemini and her teammates were waiting at the mouth of the alley, Sieru standing proudly beside them. They circled her, hands flipping through signs to break the seal on her chakra. When they had finished, Chie-sensei embraced each of the three jōnin in turn, clinging to them as if they were the only reason she still stood upright.

"I thought it might be you people," she said, stepping back, though Hikitsuri seemed reluctant to let her go. "What delayed you?"

"Iwa," said Jujikei.

Chie-sensei turned to look at me; I gave a smile and a half wave, and nearly missed the widening of her eyes. I sat up, concerned at her expression, then scrambled to my feet.

"Sensei?"

"In Iwa," she said stonily. "You—"

"It was fine," I said hastily. "No torture or anything. Just boring."

"Hiki, you let this stay?"

He shrugged, and I thought he looked a little guilty; he also didn't seem able to come up with a response. Chie-sensei gestured me forward; uncertainly, I stepped toward her. She set a gentle hand on my arm and whispered a breathy, "_Kai_."

I collapsed, distantly noting that Gaara's sand rose up to meet me. It prevented me from hitting the pavement, but it didn't alleviate any of the pain that suddenly radiated through my body, slashing my arms and jabbing into my stomach. I struggled not to scream, but realized that I emitted a low, involuntary whimper that I couldn't stop.

"Hikitsuri," Chie snapped, and I fought to shift my gaze toward my sensei for some sort of explanation. With the movement, I caught sight of my hands and felt nausea building in my throat. They looked like candy canes, striped with angry red cuts over palm and fingers. A shadow fell across my face; Hikitsuri knelt beside me, resting his hands on my skin; the contact sent further waves of agony sprawling through me.

Relief chased after the misery, washing over me until I could breathe without sobbing again. The pain subsided; the visible cuts on my hands and up my arms faded away, leaving an array of pale scars that I doubted I would ever lose. Finally, I inhaled and decided I could probably sit up again; Gaara's hand on my shoulder encouraged the motion, until I was leaning comfortably against the alley wall.

"Hikitsuri, you are a _medic-nin_," Jemini said dangerously. "You—you saw through the genjutsu and _let that lie?_"

"It seemed better," he said defensively, sarcasm stripped away, as I curled my arms around my knees and focused on breathing. "To hide the pain from her until we were back in Suna, mission completed, with the proper facilities to treat her. She'll keep those scars forever, now. I don't have enough chakra to deal with all that and still be ready for a fight—"

"There was so much blood," Gaara murmured, so only I could hear, and I looked at the street where I had lain. Red stained the pavement; I glanced away, focusing on Gaara, who had returned his hand to his side, where it convulsed slightly.

"Gaara-sama?" I said softly, tuning out the jōnin's argument.

"Is this what you meant?" he asked quietly, coldly. "Is this… what you said. To hurt them for what they have done. Am I… _allowed _to wish to kill them for this? Do they deserve it?"

Startled, I could find no answer for a moment. I responded inadequately with, "Deserve it?"

"Temari explained that I should consider if they deserve it," he said. "When I wish to kill someone."

I looked down at my new scars, raised white stripes that ran around my limbs and wavered slightly in my vision. "I want to say they do," I said, unwanted tears blurring on my eyelashes. "But I'm a little bit biased in this case, Gaara-sama. I don't think I should be your moral counselor right now."

"Enough," Chie-sensei snapped, and I glanced up. She hadn't been speaking to me, but she had apparently wanted my attention anyway. "Takara-chan, are you okay?"

I nodded and stood with ease, energized by Hikitsuri's and Gaara's chakras both. I shook a little with the memory of the pain, but had no real weakness to complain of anymore.

"I guess I was tortured after all," I said, voice as steady as I could make it.

Chie-sensei grimaced. "It means we have to move faster, people," she said. "Because they'll know you're here."

"I don't remember telling them anything," I said tentatively. "If the genjutsu is broken, shouldn't I remember that now?"

"The memory is locked away," said Chie-sensei grimly. "They can access it as they please, pull it out and play with it, but you'll never know."

"What does it matter?" Jujikei demanded. "We have you. We can get out."

She shook her head. "We're finishing the mission, people," she said. "We're getting the children out."

-o-

Chie-sensei split us up again. The other three jōnin would go with Sieru, who would lead them to the children in their well-guarded barracks and training grounds, the trio having more chakra between them than the rest of us. Chie sent Toku out of the village and ordered him to wait, hidden; like a good little ninja child, he obeyed orders, wide-eyed and hardly walking.

"Sensei, what's going on?" I asked quietly, watching him totter off.

"I'll explain later, Takara-chan."

"Where's Abura's dad?"

"Still in Iwa," she said stonily. "Manipulating their Kage into this mess. He'll be dealt with later." She paused, then added gently, "But don't worry, Takara-chan. Clean-up duty will not be yours this time."

Recalling Kansei, I shivered slightly and dropped the conversation. Chie-sensei would take us to the less-guarded collection of kids, though I wasn't entirely clear as to why they weren't as well-protected—"off-cycle," Chie-sensei called it, as well as those who hadn't entered training yet, and were thus less valuable.

Though I spotted increased shinobi patrols in the streets, I had enough control over the shadows to fetch us to our destination without incident. Chie-sensei broke the locks and gestured us through, to where a dozen scared children waited for us.

A couple lunged forward to clutch Chie-sensei around the knees; she patted their hair and started to speak, just as the doors exploded inward.

Gaara spun, sand following him in a wave and crashing over the shinobi who spilled through the doorway nearest him. Chie-sensei quickly shook off her clinging children and strode forward, facing the onslaught from the other entrance.

I drew my sword, but Chie-sensei called, "Takara-chan, take them _out of here_."

I glanced frantically around for another exit, the two I knew of being blocked by enemies. Several bodies already piled up before Gaara, and I wondered if we should worry for the children—but that seemed impossible to deal with now.

I concluded, finally, that I would have to spirit them out with my shadows, and I hoped desperately that the jutsu that allowed _me_ to go through walls would permit others to as well. Motioning the children toward me, I scuttled for a wall, sheathing my sword—then turned back to find the kids still standing, staring defiantly at me. One stepped forward, hesitantly, then jumped back when none of his fellows followed.

"Come _on_," I demanded.

"They may not be trained," Chie-sensei said grimly, a water style jutsu taking down an adversary with an axe, "but they are conditioned, and shinobi will not follow strangers. They only take orders from their leaders." With a small smile, she added, "Which I am."

Then she raised her voice and shouted, "Akashi Takara, I, jōnin Makoto Chie, am emergency field promoting you to chūnin and officially placing you in charge of this twelve-man squad of genin, with Sabaku no Gaara and the aforementioned genin as my witnesses." Her volume dropped again as she ducked a swinging blade and she added, "Sorry I don't have a vest for you, Takara-chan, we'll have to take care of that later."

Pausing a moment in whirling surprise, I nodded distantly—then snapped to attention. "Come over here," I ordered, wondering if I should phrase it more officially now. Did I have to start wording things like a leader? Was "come here" not adult enough for chūnin?

I watched a water style surge over Gaara, turning his sand sluggish, and knew there were more important things at hand.

Still—_chūnin_.

That was the last attention I allowed myself, returning to the present mission. Twelve small children surrounded me, not milling as children tended to, but orderly and attentive, though one or two looked irritated at having their defiance thwarted by my promotion. Still, I guess they were shinobi through and through—and I sickened a little at the thought of who would create an army of child ninja. The Academy started young, true—but it didn't release any children to battle until they were twelve. Usually, at least.

I quickly explained what was about to happen and pressed my chakra, a meld of mine and Gaara's that blended seamlessly in my head, into the shadows. Focused as I was, I didn't see the shinobi break through Chie's defense and lunge for me; by the time I had divided my attention into a Shadow Possession, a seven-year-old girl at the back of the line had whipped around, fire trailing from the tips of her hair, and taken the enemy down.

Whatever "off-cycle" meant, that girl was probably one of them, since she certainly wasn't untrained. Although the fires that sprung up at her feet after, lunging dangerously across the floor, indicated that she wasn't trained very _well_, for her control was obviously lacking.

I started ushering children through faster, throwing nervous glances over my shoulder toward Chie-sensei and Gaara. Both were faltering, though Gaara stood stronger yet, being fresher than my recently-imprisoned sensei. In a moment, little kids were going to be defending themselves, and I was determined not to let that happen.

With a serious effort, I widened the area of shadows that coated the wall and called two at a time. The last girl passed by, fire still sparking through her hair, watching over her shoulder as her released conflagration lunged for the Kusa-nin. "Chie-sensei! Gaara-sama!" I shouted, vision wavering slightly again.

A wall of sand leapt up in front of Gaara's attackers, standing solid though they immediately began scaling it. He used the delay to answer my call, but Chie-sensei was fading under her barrage, and any hesitation in her lashing jutsu would have let her adversaries through.

My chakra faded, too, until the shadowy hole in the wall began to shrink again. I nodded Gaara through, breathing erratically, but he stood still, refusing to go without the other two of us. I quashed a swell of warmth and pride and glared, without effect.

An idea struck me suddenly, and I had no idea if it would work, but I was running out of options. I released the hold on the shadows against the wall as Gaara's barrier gnawed upward at the shinobi on its peaks, dragging them down. A strange fury glazed his eyes, as I hadn't seen in—a long time—and I hoped desperately he could contain the Shukaku's bloodlust—but I couldn't worry right then. Instead, I summoned up a Shadow Possession, and rather than catch at the ninja, I latched onto the fire.

I only thought this work because I was so close to Abura; as it was, an odd heat surged through me, reminding me excruciatingly of having my chakra pathways scorched away. I suspected that was going to happen again, and wondered how often they would heal from that—but I shoved the pain down. The fire licked at my consciousness; I flinched back from it, then rammed it forward. It cut in front of Chie-sensei, snapping at her adversaries, and she pivoted to dash toward me.

Taking one deep breath, I dragged up the last of my chakra to reopen the passageway in the wall. I watched Gaara and Chie go through, then I fell after them and blacked out.

-o-

I woke gently rocking, surrounded by sand and children as we moved through one of Kusagakure's impressive forests. Taking a moment to adjust to this new state of consciousness, I sat up on my gritty gold sled and looked around; at least thirty children marched around us, a terrifying tiny army, though Jujikei carried two and Chie-sensei cradled a sleeping Tuko.

She turned to look at me and smiled. I opened my mouth to question her, but she shook her head, gesturing at the quiescent child. It was just as well; despite Gaara's stare—I told myself I was just imagining the concern I saw there—I found myself blinking away further sleep as well. Then my body rebelled at the amount of abuse it had taken in the past few weeks and sent me crashing back into unconsciousness.

With the children, it took us almost three weeks to get back to Sunagakure, including a near-constant forage for food to feed three dozen people and a handful of skirmishes as Kusa- and Iwa-nin tracked us down to try and reclaim their army.

"Won't they just build a new one?" I asked Chie-sensei one night, gazing into the gloom that pervaded the night. "Train new kids?"

"No," she said, voice cold. "We'll get all the villages on this. It was long ago agreed that this would not—could not—happen. Kusagakure—and Iwagakure, who invaded and took over Kusa, and whose fault it really was—will find themselves under so much censure they will not wish to _breathe_ outside the rules."

I asked her, too, to never tell Abura about his father—that she'd seduced Dai to betray him. She gave me a look that asked if I thought her stupid.

"It was a classified mission anyway, Takara-chan."

"Why him, though?"

"He has a good deal of influence—more than is healthy—over the Tsuchikage. By controlling him, I could, in part, control Iwa."

The idea of my sensei in charge of a village, even indirectly—I didn't know what to think of it. "One more question," I said.

"I doubt that, Takara-chan."

"If they—the kids—if they're so well-trained, why did they follow you? Betray their village?"

"I had months to infiltrate the villages," she pointed out. "I was on their side. They learned to see me as one of their commanding officers."

"And what will happen to them now?"

"I thought only one more question, Takara-chan," she said softly.

"Yes, well, you doubted it."

She gazed down at Tuko, who was curled up with his head on her knee. "Some of them will go back to normal lives," she said. "The young ones who aren't in too deep." Stroking Tuko's hair, which was much shorter now, as the mats had been too entangled to save, she lapsed into a short, sad silence.

"And most can't be anything but shinobi now," she finished finally. "Have you ever tried leaving this life, Takara-chan? There's nothing after it." A tiny sigh passed her lips.

"We've taken them from one life only to give them back to it."

-o-

The last night, with Suna in sight but too far away to reach for hours yet, I sat away from the crowd of children and jōnin with Gaara cross-legged beside me. "Do you feel… avenged?" he asked me, and I looked at him with a little bit of confusion.

"Should I?" I inquired.

"We killed those who caused you pain."

"No we didn't," I said. "We killed a good many of their alleys, but I suspect those who… tortured me"—I fingered convulsively a row of three scars on the back of my wrist—"are still cozy in a tower in Iwa." I looked down at my hands, at once fascinated and appalled by the long slicing scars that decorated them. It felt like they still had a piece of my brain, those Iwagakure torturers, and I felt imprisoned still, though I thought Gaara had broken me out of that tower.

"Were you fighting to avenge me, Gaara-sama?"

The question was out before I could think about it, but he didn't seem unnerved by it at all. "Yes," he said. "It was different. Not fighting for the blood. I was not… fighting for myself." He tilted his gaze back to the desert sky, as if searching for some lost soul in the heavens. "I think it could be dangerous. To always pretend you are fighting for another person. It could become… an excuse."

"I don't think it's any more dangerous than pretending you're only fighting for yourself," I said softly. "Both can cause serious damage."

"I would rather cause serious damage on your behalf," he said unexpectedly.

I clenched my fists over my brand-new scars and bit back tears. Then I reached out and slid one hand into his, and though he flinched in surprise, he curled his dry fingers over mine and let the conversation fall to silence.


	107. A Wisdom

The mission debriefing was long and agonizing, involving the full Council, a flock of medic-nin, and various and sundry other people bustling around. They frequently tried to take the children, but Chie-sensei snapped them off. I didn't know if she intended to take them all into her own house, but she certainly intended to oversee their placement _personally._

By the time they dismissed me, I was more than half asleep. The medic-nin insisted I stay the night in the hospital, but they seemed resigned to the permanence of the striping scars that, aside from decorating my arms, extended across my stomach and down my legs, even palely crisscrossing my face. I looked like a confused tiger, and found myself glad I spent so much time masked in shadow.

At least I matched Abura now, my straight slicing knife wounds to his jagged hatching burns.

I went to share this—and my new status as chūnin—with him after they released me from the hospital. I wore a thin shadowy veil the whole way, and once again bypassed the front door. Giving Abura's shutter a desultory knock, I pushed it open and hopped in.

I found Isane pressed up against the opposite wall. Abura had one hand beside her head, the other tangled in her hair, and his lips firmly joined with hers.

"How long was I _gone_?" slipped out before I could stop it. Then I scrambled backwards, nearly falling out the window as they broke apart, and resolved to never enter a bedroom without knocking again. A quickly-broken promise, for a ninja, but I could pretend. And fervently, fervently hope.

I scurried back to Nagi-sensei's house, where I continued to live for f ear of the ghosts in my own. I entered carefully, concerned about the newly-discovered hazards of barging into rooms I thought safe. The path to my couch was clear; I collapsed onto it just as both Chie- and Nagi-sensei walked in, clutching each other's hands like they would never let go.

I plunged down into sleep before any sort of conversation could arise.

-o-

Chie-sensei informed me later that there was still a test for field-promoted shinobi, though she assured me hardly anyone failed it. When my body had stopped rebelling and proclaimed it sufficiently recovered, I took the exam—and passed it on the first try, a relieving revolution from my list of failures at the graduation exam.

Nagi- and Chie-sensei banded together to throw me a small party and present my vest. Abura and Isane sat beside each other the whole night; Abura kept glaring at me every time I looked sideways at the two of them, even though I was pretty sure they were holding hands under the table and nobody could fail to notice their proximity.

Since I was finding every excuse to brush up against Gaara, I could point no fingers, though the startled twitch he gave at every surprise contact limited my ability to do so without notice.

After the celebration, I hung my vest in Nagi-sensei's living room, above the couch, preferring a sleeker, steel-grey adaptation that enabled sneaking. I knew it didn't belong there, on Nagi's wall—I knew I would have to go home soon.

I kept putting it up.

Suna hosted the Chūnin Exams that year; I watched, no longer needing to participate. I watched Isane earn herself genin status as a Sunagakure shinobi. I watched—cried—as Abura nearly died to prove he could still claim the title of ninja. They reassigned both Isane and Abura to Chie-sensei's squad, leaving my spot empty until graduation came around and offered up a third genin to fill it.

Too, I watched as Gaara battled to protect his newly-appointed teammates through the Exams, saving their lives—even as they, unfathomably, saved his. I felt a sting of jealousy for his unknown squad, though the wary way they still avoided meeting his eyes proved they didn't—quite—trust him yet.

But after the orange-haired twins watched him take a blade for them, they didn't seem quite so reluctant to do the same for him. And after the Exams, they walked a little bit closer to their teammate.

The fact that all of this took place in front of a good portion of the village allowed Gaara to, finally, begin to show Suna that he was human. At least, the Council saw fit to make him chūnin, one of only three shinobi who made it.

This surprised all of us, since he'd spent less than a year on a squad separate from his siblings. Chie-sensei said something about politics, and I let it go, not caring to understand and not letting it dampen my exhilaration.

Nagi-sensei finally gave me full permission to use my sword when and where I saw fit, though she still delayed the forging of my own. Gaara and I spent most nights training, sword and shadow against sand. I shed my fair share of blood when he slipped too far into the battle; he still refused to fight me on the full moon for fear of the Shukaku. For my part, I doubted I could ever bring myself to land a blow, but I didn't much have to worry about that. My speed increased notably trying to break through his defenses, but I had nothing on Rock Lee—and the sand never stayed still long enough for me to bleed shadow into intangibility.

All those involved the Iwa-Kusa mission were confined to Suna for the time being, pending resolution of the issues. I wondered what 'resolution' would mean for Abura's father and found myself unwilling to ask. The confinement limited the amount of chūnin-level duties Gaara and I could experience, although I was drafted to aid in the supervision and training of several of the children of the aftermath. Chie-sensei explained they trusted me because of the authority she had given me—but also because _I_ had gotten them out.

Supposedly they had a measure of trust in Gaara, too, but it still didn't seem safe to give him a squad of small children and expect everything to be okay. I asked him, once, if he'd ever think about teaching, with the rank he had attained.

"I do not intend to remain a chūnin," he said, perched on the balcony railing. I sat cross-legged at the other end. "Chūnin cannot become Kazekage."

"Right," I said, surveying the glittering night city before us. "Still intend to be the next?"

"Yes."

"Any word as to why they haven't picked another to replace the Fourth yet?"

"Politics," he said. "There are many lies involved. You might understand, if you wished me to explain."

I grinned and said, "No, thanks. I'll stick to the Shinobi Corps. Point me, shoot me, don't make me worry about why." My smile faded slightly.

"That's a dangerous way to be a shinobi," I added softly. "Glad you're getting out, Gaara-sama. Please. Always worry about _why_."

He nodded, and we watched the night in temporary silence until he asked, "Will you remain a chūnin? Teaching?"

I shrugged, considering. "I like the kids," I said, and looked down at my hands. I had modified my wardrobe a great deal since our return, tiring of the drain on my chakra that a constant veil required. Now I wore gloves, and in general a lot more fabric, showing very little skin at all. "But I don't think I could do that forever. Too much spotlight. I'm too used to being a ninja." I grinned wryly. "Maybe I'll aim for ANBU. They get to wear masks."

"Yours scars," he began, then looked vaguely frustrated. "Shinobi understand… that they are of a hero." He frowned, as if he hadn't wanted to phrase it quite that way, but the wording sent an odd thrill through me. "You should not hide them," he concluded.

I hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. "They make me feel stupid," I said finally. "Blind. How could I not remember this being done to me?" I swallowed. "How could I betray my village—my _sensei —_and _not remember?"_

"There are others who are better than you," he said unexpectedly.

My gaze whipped around to focus on him, and I lost my balance just for a second. Sand curled against the railing, ready to stabilize me should I fail to regain it. I clutched at the stone and found myself at a loss for words; he regarded me steadily for a moment, then continued.

"You fail… because there is always someone better than you. Perhaps the only course of action is to strive to improve yourself, until you… cease to fail yourself. Or—" He hesitated. "Or cease to fail those around you."

"When did you get so wise, Gaara-sama?" I demanded, then leaned back against the wall.

"Guess I will shoot for ANBU," I said. "No one's better than them. Except maybe the Kazekage, right?"


	108. A Grave

A/N: Guys, I wanted to let you know that the all-character project is fallen by the wayside; I've let it go. We have not enough people and not enough time for all those characters. (: Thanks to those who put forth the effort—I would still be _delighted_ to see your art if you still want to complete it.

Also—I think you should know that _The Obsession_ is drawing to a close. Not too long now. More details next week. It's the reason I haven't been replying to any of my reviews—been rushing to finish writing instead. Hope you'll forgive me!

Short chapter, and I apologize, but you'll see another soon.

-o-

"Kuraho Dai rests in a shallow grave atop the cliffs of Sunagakure."

I spun around, stepping out of the shade at the edge of the street, and found Chie-sensei standing behind me. She watched me closely; I hesitated for a moment, then said, "Does Abura know?"

"He knows his father is a traitor to Sunagakure," she said. "Or perhaps _traitor_ is not the right word, since he hasn't lived here in years, but an enemy, at least." I bit my lip, and she added, "He had to know, Takara-chan, in case Dai tried to contact him. Before he was caught."

Reluctantly, I nodded, and she continued, "But he does not know he is dead."

"Wouldn't it be better if he did?"

"He would feel cheated," she said. "Abura-kun wants to confront his father."

"He'll have to find out eventually," I pointed out.

"I'm going to give him time to accept it, Takara-chan," she said softly. "But that's a decision you can make on your own."

And in the end—I never told him.

-o-

That marked the end of our confinement to Suna; a few days later, I was assigned leader to a squad of genin, unsupervised, for the first time. That squad happened to be Isane and Abura, the idea being that it would be easier to work with shinobi I was more familiar with at first. I suspected the amount of sass Abura would give me when I ordered him around would prove otherwise.

The mission was a simple retrieval, collect a scroll from a hermit in the woods and return it to Sunagakure. Apparently, he'd discovered some important information in his research, and wanted to pass it on to his former village before he died of his fatal disease. It was all very mysterious and intriguing; he died moments after we arrived, and I wondered perpetually what could be so important as we buried him behind his hut and Isane transplanted some flowers to his grave.

I took first watch, clutching the scroll and staring off into the foggy distance that marked the border of the Land of Rain. I recalled clearly the Chūnin Exams in Konoha, and being forbidden to read those scrolls; but no one had forbidden _me_ to read _these _scrolls, and after all, a spy should gather as much information as possible.

And that's what I suspected I would be. Chie-sensei had already mentioned I would be placed on more stealth missions if I proved myself with this practice one. The idea thrilled me, and—

But a spy had to be trusted with the information she carried, too. And if it was confidential, it was confidential.

Then again, no one had _told_ me this was confidential. Surely if it needed to be kept secret, it would be.

Curiosity too much to contain, I flipped the scroll open and skimmed its contents. Moments later, I was shaking Abura awake and dodging irritated sparks.

"Abura, burn this," I hissed, wincing as my hair sizzled. He probably hadn't meant to hit me with any of those firefly-flames, but his aim wasn't what it used to be, his control somewhat lacking. He rolled over, muttering dark insults, and blinked irritably at me.

"Burn this," I said again, thrusting it toward him.

"Keh, 'Kara," he mumbled. "Isn't that our mission?"

"We're failing," I snapped. "As your squad leader, I am ordering you to _burn this." _

He eyed me with aggravation and tossed a handful of flames at the scroll. I dropped it, flinching away from the fire, and watched it smolder with a sick feeling in my gut.

"Gonna explain why?"

"No one can know that," I said. "_No one_."

"Keh." He coughed slightly and curled up again, keeping his eyes on the fire as it sputtered weakly. "Don't think that's for you to decide."

"I decided," I said. "They didn't make me chūnin for nothing."

-o-

I spent the remainder of the trip trying desperately to think up explanations and justifications. Abura and Isane took the sudden lack of mission as an excuse to vacation; they strolled happily along through the desert sunshine, hand-in-hand, long past their stage of secrets. Isane even drew a smile to Abura's face, something I hardly ever saw—especially since he'd burned.

I wanted to bask in it with them, but I was in a little bit of a panic. I didn't regret what I'd done—the information scared me, and the thought of it being in the hands of _politics_ scared me even more—but I did regret not having an explanation that the council would accept. They probably would have been extremely satisfied to have that information in their hands.

At least, I consoled myself, I had all the rest of the way back to Suna to think up an excuse.

I didn't count on Eiri.

The footsteps fell lightly in the sand, but I caught them and whirled, drawing my katana in one smooth motion. He must have come from behind a sand dune, bouncing like a ghost on the desert wind—and he had to be a ghost, the halo of sun on his blond hair a memento from the afterlife, not the daylight beating down from above.

I realized then that I was shaking, shaking like a whole forest of leaves in a windstorm back in Konoha. My katana almost dropped from my trembling fingers; what good was it as a tribute to someone who wasn't dead?

No. No, he _was_. This was the last revenge of the Kansei-nin more than a year after it had ended. I tightened my grip on the hilt, the weapon as heavy as if I held Eiri's bones instead of a sword.

Beside me, Abura and Isane stared in shock, nerveless hands locked together in shared emotion. Fury boiled up inside me: this thief of faces had no _right._

I started to raise my katana as if I really thought I could kill that perfect smiling face. And maybe I could have; the years as a shinobi had hardened us all.

But then he spoke. Cheer fountained off his every word without the slightest remorse at having been gone so long.

"Heeeeeeeey!"

Abura snapped awoke, pulling away from Isane and replacing her hand in his with a roiling flame. It spiraled around his fingers, lapping at his skin as it flickered in and out of his control, and then lunged hungrily for the imposter's throat like a burning, living beast.

Bewilderment filtered into Eiri's eyes and he dove toward me, scrambling to use me as a shield as he cried, "Waaaaaah! Abura-kuuuuuun!"

Instinctively, I flung up my arms to protect myself, letting the sword go. The fire coiled around my skin, scorching, and I let out a wild hiss of pain. Something cracked in Abura's icy gaze; the flames retreated, leaving my arms red and raw.

Cringing, I drew a kunai and pivoted. I raised it up and, choking on tears, demanded thickly, "Before I kill you, tell me what the hell you want."

I should have just killed him. But I wanted to hear his voice one last time.

"Guuuuuuyssss! Takara-chaaan, it's _meee_!"

"No," I said as firmly as I could while I shook myself apart. "It's not."


	109. A Warning

A/N: Well, it's official. I have officially finished writing _The Obsession_. It is, in total, 111 chapters (not including interludes and author's notes). So… now it's up to you guys. What do you want? Continue posting chapters once a week, or post them every day—every other day—whatever you would like—until I have reached the end? It's for you to decide.

And in the meantime… happy birthday, Gaara!

-o-

We stood in a shaky, nervous half-circle, staring Eiri down while he looked from face to face like a bewildered puppy. Finally, Isane's hands snapped together; chakra surged with a trio of seals and ropes leapt from the sand, glowing faintly and coiling around the—the phantom crouched in the desert. He offered up a tiny wail and dropped to his butt to the ground.

"Walk," I ordered him, trying to sound cold and unable to stop my voice from trembling. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off, sweeping up my sword and jabbing it toward him. Looking distressed, he scrambled to his feet and trudged back to Suna, katana at his back.

Abura and Isane walked determinedly separate all the way home, careful not to touch. Without speaking, we knew to find Chie-sensei; I dragged Eiri and myself into the shadows, not wanting the questions, the shouts, and followed my friends as we hunted for their sensei.

I thanked all the desert gods when she opened her own door. I hauled Eiri out of the shadow and we stood arrayed before her, silently helpless. "Sensee—" Eiri started, but Abura clapped a hand over his mouth with more force than was strictly necessary.

"Is it Kansei?" I asked desperately, voice low. "I thought we—finished them. I thought they were gone, Sensei."

She wore a stricken look as if she had a sword through her chest, and seemed incapable of speech. Abura's hand jerked away from Eiri's mouth, apparently reacting to being bitten, and the chakra ropes collapsed, slit by some kunai secreted in the blond's clothing. Eiri lunged for Chie-sensei; I grabbed at him as she flinched, but he simply wrapped his arms around her in a hug and wailed.

I shut my eyes and tried to block out the sound. When I opened them again, Chie-sensei had pried Eiri off and was clutching his wrist, holding him away from her like something rotten. "Whyyyyyy," he demanded forcefully, "doesn't anyone believe it's _meeee!_"

"I'll tell you how to find out, people," Chie-sensei said, voice rising to talk over him, volume just barely masking her apprehension. Shutting the door behind her, she towed Eiri away, the three of us trailing after the pair. She took us the back ways, also avoiding people with her resurrected student, so I didn't recognize the route until we stood three feet from the spot where Eiri had burned away. I stopped abruptly, certain for a moment that I could smell the burning flesh as Abura coaxed the pyre higher.

"Sens—" Eiri began again, and Chie shoved him forward. He tripped with a wail and landed on his knees on his own funeral pyre.

"What—" I started, and didn't have a chance to continue. Eiri began to writhe, skin running like candle wax as his face peeled away. It was a struggle not to double over and retch up my last three meals; I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Isane, tears coursing from her ice-blue eyes. Abura's fists were clenched into tiny, unrestrained infernos of fury, and I almost couldn't look at the storm on Chie-sensei's face.

"It's why the Kansei-nin carted so many bones," she said stonily. "Their disguises dissolve at the resting place of their dead. So they never rested. He'll stop—" Her voice caught and I hesitantly knelt down beside the misshapen figure of my former teammate. "He'll stop remembering us as his squad in a minute, people."

The false face stripped away left Eiri a short, skeletal boy with striped grey hair and washed-out eyes. "They're sending an army, Takara-chan," he whispered hoarsely, grabbing my hand, and then gave a waxen smile. "An _arrrrmy_," he repeated, pitching his voice just high enough to mimic Eiri's drawn-out whine, and then he died.

I sat back on my heels, tasting bile. _A shinobi does not show emotions_, I thought. _A shinobi has seen far worse in battle. _I still wanted to throw up, no matter how many times I repeated it. "An army," I said flatly. "How can Kansei have an army? We spent _months_ tracking them down."

"_Keh_," conveyed Abura's opinions on the matter, and then a forced—"They can't."

"He wouldn't tell Kori-chan if they did, right," Isane said worriedly, and I recalled just briefly that flash of a smirk from the Chūnin Exams—from when she'd been strong. I hardly remembered that girl.

"If he wore the disguise for long enough," Chie-sensei said softly, "it might have been him." She took a deep breath and forced herself on, voice steady, and I wondered that I had never seen her so affected. "Besieged by all the memories of us, people, he might have come close enough to thinking he _was_ our Eiri-kun."

"Maybe we shouldn't have—killed him—so thoughtlessly," I said distantly. "Maybe he would have told us more."

"We all have a report to make, people," said Chie-sensei. "Let's sort it out."

-o-

Sorting it turned out to be scouring our information networks for news of this army. We couldn't be certain it was real, but we couldn't risk that it wasn't; I don't think we ever had more than two squads at rest in Sunagakure during that time. The missions were constant, sending us across the borders hunting down a rumor. We couldn't even trust our allies anymore, in case they were betraying the treaties, and we asked no other villages for help.

I came to regret my promotion to chūnin, in that sick place in my stomach, when they started pulling anyone above genin level to perform duties normally too advanced for them. I saw my fair share of torture—did my fair share of torturing.

And I'm not going back there, so don't expect me to talk about it.

Despite it—despite everything—we found nothing. I was starting to think we'd raised a false alarm in the village, that I'd cut across those faces for no reason—all the while knowing that it had been done to me. I was suddenly no better than the people I had wanted dead.

Who wanted me dead now? Which distant relatives knew their families wouldn't be coming back because of someone like me?

"I'm a shinobi," I started telling myself in the mirror—when I ever went home. Or rather, back to Nagi's—because my mother's house was a site I definitely couldn't face in the middle of this.

"Does it help?" she asked me when she caught me on one of the rare times we were in town on the same day.

"Yes," I said hollowly.

"She's still a liar," Nagi-sensei remarked, voice fighting for a cheer that was belied by the dark bruises around her eyes, and left.

-o-

Suna had almost decided to let the threat fall to the wayside when we started to catch the rumors. I couldn't stop the surge of relief that swept over me at the news—yes, there was an army, but at least it hadn't all been for nothing. Security in Sunagakure increased exponentially, until we hardly let anyone through the cliffs, until we all patrolled constantly atop the walls while we tried desperately to figure out where Kansei had been hiding an _army_ while we destroyed their shinobi corps.

Gaara, Abura, and I were all on the cliffs at the same time, though coincidence hadn't placed Isane on simultaneous sentry duty with us. Aimlessly, I watched Abura stride toward me, keeping one eye on the expanse of desert.

We passed on patrol, Abura offering the flicker of a weary smile, and my hand came up in an abrupt snap of realization. "Underground," I said, and he turned back to stare at me. "Remember Riyuta?" I demanded of him. "Kansei—they've been _literally_ underground."

"Keh, there's no evidence they've been in league with Iwa."

"But Iwa's angry enough at us—"

And that's when the army came through the cliffs.


	110. A War

A/N: January 29, 2012 is _The Obsession_'s fourth birthday. I've decided it would be rather poetic to finish on the same day I started, so I will be posting chapters so as to give you the last one week from tomorrow. There are eight chapters left, including this one, which means a chapter almost every day. I hope you don't mind. I would have spread them out a little more if I had thought of this earlier, but I didn't, so beware the barrage. (: And I apologize for some of the skimming I had to do.

-o-

The rock edges began to crumble and we both pivoted, probably in unison with the rest of the platoon of shinobi patrolling the cliffs. I skipped backwards as the ground burst up beneath my feet, the conquering army unable to swarm between our walls and burrowing through them instead.

If Gaara hadn't been up on the cliffs, Suna would've been lost—but his sand rose up, a wall on top of a wall, pressing the invaders back and over the edge. My sword was out a heartbeat later, my reactions half a second slower than his, and I slashed out at an adversary with protective fury. This was _my_ village threatened, _our_ home in danger, and this pathetic excuse for an invasion force thought it could beat _us?_

From the corner of my eye, I saw other Suna-nin dashing for reinforcements, using Gaara's delay to bring the support that would save us. I ducked the sweep of an axe from my opponent, skilled but slow compared to the flash of my sword that bit into his arm. Countless nights training against Gaara paid off, my speed whipping me away from a series of painfully-close cuts of the axe.

My katana slid across his throat and my gaze jerked sideways, watching Abura abandon his opponent to sprint across the flat stone. The distraction earned me a vicious slice to the arm with the enemy nin's dying flail; I jerked back, rounding on him to deal a retaliatory death blow as I clutched my wounded limb against my side.

Certain now he was dead, I pivoted back to follow Abura—and saw that he raced toward his father. His father, whose death neither Chie-sensei nor I had ever confessed to my pyromaniac best friend.

"Abura!" My voice rose and cracked with the volume, the strain, but he was too far, too fast to listen. I lurched through a water jutsu that brought me crashing to my knees in a ring of gritty mud. Several shuriken spun from my fingers in the direction of the jutsu's origin, and then I was up and running after Abura.

Briefly, my eyes met Gaara's—he fought on the other side of the pyro from me, though closer—and then my gaze jumped away, back to my former squadmate. Fire burst from his skin in an unreasonable display, rage curdling into heat that would drain him dry. He had to remember that his father had never been a ninja, but offered the chance to confront the man, he didn't seem to care. His fury boiled out of him in bright flame and met a pair of crossed swords that glowed with reflective chakra.

Abura slammed his false father back, driving fireball after fireball at the flashing blades. I snapped out a Shadow Possession, hoping to drag the pyro back, but missed as he continued to fling himself forward. Desperately, I glanced at Gaara again, but he was preoccupied with the swarm digging through the cliffs and surging after Suna.

I caught up as the blades slashed down, tearing through weakening flames and flesh. My katana lanced out to halt the fall of one shining sword, and I looked up into cold blue eyes as the other dropped to sink into the muscles where Abura's neck met his shoulder. The pyro could hardly stand now, having never recovered enough to control that much fire, but he shoved himself back to his feet and launched himself at the Kansei-nin with nothing more than a single kunai to wreak his misdirected revenge.

"Abura, it's not him!" I shouted, but he ignored me, and someone else's jutsu coiled around my waist, yanking me backwards as I struggled to follow Abura.

"Abura, please don't—" And my voice was almost a scream, choked off as the invading jutsu wrapped around my throat as well. My elbow lashed backwards, catching my adversary in the gut; the jutsu loosened to allow me breath, but didn't release. Blindly, I jabbed over my shoulder with a kunai, feeling warm blood spray and trickle down the back of my neck. Shuddering, I shook off the remains of the attack and spun, carrying my katana through in one smooth circle—I never even saw his face before I cut off his head.

A rushed Shadow Possession prevented two more adversaries from taking his place; I left them shaking and still while a fellow Suna-nin slit their throats as I pivoted and leapt for Abura. I had just gotten him back, already watched him almost die once—I wasn't going to lose him again—

He huddled on the ground, fighting his weakness, blood and scorch marks staining all his scars. I wasn't going to reach him in time, not to stop that sword poised to take off his head.

The blade dropped and I cried out—but it slashed through Abura's wrist instead of his neck, detaching his hand completely in a surge of red. Abura's shout of agony shredded the sounds of battle, and I swung out with a genjutsu that didn't reach _quite far enough_—

A wave of sand coiled up from the ground, battering into the swordsman's chest. It moved sluggishly, overpowered by Gaara's exhaustion at holding back an army. The Kansei-nin stumbled backwards and I raced the last few yards to kneel at Abura's side, fumbling for bandages to stop the bleeding from his wrist—and how would he hold fire without that hand, but I forced the thought away—from his shoulder, from it seemed everywhere. He mumbled something inarticulate, barely conscious; someone dragged me away and I shouted, until I realized it was a Sunagakure medic-nin and went limp.

My gaze snapped back to the Kansei-nin wearing Kuraho Dai's face. Encouraged by Gaara's attack, he had fallen—and his flesh was writhing, melting in some unexplained jutsu—no, dissolving away.

_Kuraho Dai rests in a shallow grave atop the cliffs of Sunagakure._

So he'd found his resting place—his false face was sliding away with his stolen life. I turned away, surveying the bloodstained walls of Suna. The battle had ended when I wasn't looking; a handful of small skirmishes still ranged across the rock and sand, but for the most part, the action had settled. Corpses littered the ground; the occasional Iwa ninja escaping back into the ground promised another series of retaliatory missions for us, cleaning up our messes, but our forces were too thin to chase them at the moment. I think we must have called some allies into our reserved forces after all—no way could we have routed the army so thoroughly with only Suna's shinobi. With only Gaara, no matter how good he was.

Wearily, I shoved myself to my feet, slowly becoming aware of a series of dull aches pervading my body, concentrated most insistently in my arm, crusted with dried blood and shreds of fishnet. I glanced back at the medic-nin; he met my eyes as a stretcher carted Abura away.

"He's still breathing," the medic said. "I couldn't reattach his hand, but he's alive." He tossed a fleeting look at my wounds and said, "I'm sorry, but there are worse injuries I need my chakra for."

He already looked exhausted, pale from chakra drain and soft spring-green hair matted with blood. I shook my head hastily and said, "I know. Thank you. For keeping him alive."

He nodded, seemed unable to work up the energy for more words, and moved on to the next prone Suna shinobi bleeding in the sand.

I hauled myself in the direction of Gaara. I was amazed he was still standing, but he continued dragging sand after retreating ninja. Stumbling up to him, I raised a hand to his shoulder; he flinched away, nearly killed me with a wave of gold, then backed off as I cringed at the sand grating over my wounds.

"You saved us," I said hoarsely. "I think you can let them go."

His sand twitched feebly and withdrew, huddling around his feet like a shaky pile of bloodstained puppies. The image was one I wished I'd avoided. "The village—" he began, voice quiet and drained.

"—will recover," I said wearily. "Thanks to you. Come on, Gaara-sama, I need to visit Abura in the hospital."


	111. A Ward

A/N: I really, really struggled with this chapter, with making it at all believable, so… I really hope you guys aren't disappointed. :D

-o-

It didn't escape my notice that I spent more time at Abura's hospital bedside than anyone else I knew. I was in and out for a week waiting for him to wake up, certain that after so many close calls, he couldn't quit pulling through now—though he'd already slept through his birthday.

After that week, I started spending longer and longer hours in the hospital. The medics assured me that he would certainly wake up; he'd needed a blood transfusion, but he was sure to recover. I held onto those promises, silently begging his breathing to strengthen, the sparks to reappear and dance across his skin and scars.

They made Gaara a jōnin while I sat in the hospital, forgetting to eat—forgetting sleep until I started to look more like Gaara's sister, with those dark rings around my eyes. Not that I ever checked a mirror so I'd notice. I missed the jōnin ceremony and choked on the guilt for a few days—but then it was swallowed by fear, as the medics started to get nervous. They didn't tell me anything, but I watched their movements grow both more rushed and more subdued.

I tried feeding my chakra to Abura while no one else was in the room, but his seething fire scorched me out. That alone gave me hope—that flames still sparked within him enough to reject help. But Abura faded, growing paler and quieter, dying despondently in the hospital without even a final strangled _keh._

I hardly even noticed when it happened, far away as I was, not until the monitors went haywire and a trio of medic-nin appeared to shove me against a wall and fight to save his life. I said his name so many times I couldn't count—and I think sometimes I said Eiri's name, too, maybe trying to call the blond back with the pyro, maybe begging Abura to stay when I'd already lost one brother.

Either way, it didn't work.

"You could have at least died in battle," I whispered to the lifeless pyromaniac in the lifeless hospital sheets. "You didn't have to give me this hope and then take it away."

But then I looked at the pale bland walls and the similarly-colored bed, the stark row of now-quiet machines, and realized places like this didn't offer much hope anyway. I was a fool to hold it at all.

-o-

"There was poison in the chakra that killed him," they tried to tell me later—but I faded after that. I didn't hear the things they told me. "Undetectable until after death." _After death_. There was no such thing for me; I had suffered too much dying and forgotten how to live.

I don't know why they call the shinobi wing of the hospital the White Ward, when they're all white, but after I nearly lost my team on a mission I forgot to pay attention to, they confined me there for a while.

To be honest—perfectly—I don't think I noticed. I don't remember very much from those months. I didn't say very much, if anything. I—drifted. I anchored myself in Abura and Eiri, my two dead teammates, and since they were no longer present, tangible, the anchorage was as much quicksand as anything, and there was little to keep me here.

Even Gaara couldn't—quite—draw me back, though I recall flashes of red and gold relieving the white monotony of the walls. Gaara—I had put all my trust in him and lost my squadmates. I had lied to them and never him—and he was the one still alive.

That realization dropped me hard into reality for the first time since Abura's death.

"I want you to know," I said to Gaara when he came back again. "I'm not going to lie to hurt anymore. Only to protect. If—" I swallowed hard, unaccustomed to speech. "If I lie at all."

He regarded me steadily for a moment, absorbing more words than I had spoken in months, and then said, "They are making me Kazekage."

I stared, then felt the unfamiliar stretch of a grin unfurling across my face. "About damn time," I said. "Get me out of here, Gaara-sama, I'm going to be there."

-o-

I almost missed the ceremony. They couldn't let me out, just like that—not even if the soon-to-be Kazekage said so. There were evaluations and paperwork to a level that almost made me want to curl up and stay locked away. I braved through it though, rushing them, insisting I was all better—telling no lies that I could help, and thinking desperately of Gaara standing before the village. Proving that he had changed, defied all their expectations. I wanted to _be there_.

I had to run from the hospital all the way to the Kazekage's mansion. The streets were empty until I got close, and then every narrow alley was walled with people, every rooftop coated with spectators. The entire village had turned out to see their demon promoted to leader, and no way was I standing in the back where I couldn't even _see_.

I went through the buildings. My jutsu was rusty; moving through walls was slower than it had been, and I found myself trapped in the terror of nearly being stuck more than a few times. But I didn't let up the pace, rushing forward until I burst into the alleys that ran up to the mansion.

Chakra sputtering in my hands and feet, I scaled a wall until I crouched above the people, on the same level as Gaara in the Kazekage's robes at the front platform, and his siblings who flanked him. Several angry watchers shouted me down, but I ignored them, waving until I was certain Gaara saw, until he looked straight at me and met my eyes from across the distance as the head of the Council stepped forward and placed the Kazekage's ceremonial hat atop Gaara's bright red hair.

-o-

"Tell me everything they said," I demanded, lounging on our customary railing. "I didn't get a good seat."

"You had the best seat," he said dryly. "Except Temari and Kankuro."

"But I couldn't _hear_ anything."

"I nearly fell asleep." I glanced at him, startled, suffering a brief flash of fear at the Shukaku's resurgence and then wondering if I'd missed Gaara acquiring a sense of humor while locked in the White Ward.

"Gaara-sama," I said hesitantly, and he said, "No."

"What?"

"Not _-sama_," he said. "That is something I hear from every villager now."

"_-San_?" I suggested.

"No," he said. "Just Gaara." He paused. "…Please."

"Sure," I said. "…Gaara." I scooted along the railing, feet dangling over the edge, until I could clasp his hand. For a moment, I thought he would pull away, the night outside Sunagakure seeming so many lifetimes ago. But he stayed still.

"Gaara," I started again, with an entirely different question in mind this time, and he said, "Yes."

"I didn't ask yet."

He shrugged very slightly, and I lost my nerve. "Thanks for getting me out," I said instead, shifting awkwardly to sit on my knees. "It would've been slower without you."

"Thank you," he responded, "for being ready to leave."

"Yeah," I said, then rose, wobbling precariously as I neared him. I grabbed his shoulder for balance and a handful of sand flinched toward me in instinctive reaction, then recoiled as Gaara reined it in.

"This is probably not really a gift," I said. "But congratulations on becoming Kazekage." And then I leaned forward and kissed Sabaku no Gaara while almost falling off the balcony of his mansion into the distant dark streets of Sunagakure.


	112. A Question

He didn't kill me immediately, which was a distinct bonus. In fact, he even caught me as I lost my balance completely, although that might have been because I would have dragged him over the edge, too. What surprised me the most was that he caught me with his hands, instead of the wash of sand it would have been all too easy for him to employ, and he looked just as astonished as I did.

A wave of gold did actually anchor us to the balcony, I noticed as he dragged me gracelessly back onto the railing. I muttered something completely inarticulate and scooted to the floor, attempting a hasty exit that I planned to end with jumping in the cistern. Which I hastily revised to drowning myself in Nagi-sensei's shower, since I didn't want to poison the village's water supply.

"Takara."

"I'm going to go check myself back into the mental hospital," I said brightly. "Don't bother rescuing me this time."

"You said you would not lie."

"Not sure I'm lying." With a prodigious effort, I turned around and leaned back against the doorframe.

"Do you regret it?"

I hesitated, considering the bubble in my stomach that appeared to be spawning happy butterflies. "No," I said honestly. "Do you?"

"No."

"Oh." Uncertainly, I edged back to the railing and rested my weight on it again. "Huh."

-o-

This was the first time I had ever been in his office; it was strange to be sitting across from the Gaara I had always known and at the same time to be in the presence of the Kazekage. I felt like I should have more respect or something, but he still insisted on the lack of honorific—and no longer flinched when I touched him, though I was still a little scared about doing so. It was a challenge even now to shake years of stalking, never getting close enough to be seen, heard, or felt, and practically worshipping him all the time.

He slid a cup across the desk and held up a slender-necked pitcher. "I don't drink alcohol," I said automatically, before stopping to consider that it was unlikely to _be_ alcohol.

Gaara considered me a moment, then said, "Nor do I. This is tea." He tipped the pitcher into my cup, nearly spilling it and acquiring a brief irritated look, before continuing slowly, "It makes the demon restless. It is harder to stay awake." His gaze rose slightly. "Why don't you?"

I considered the potential lies, knowing I wouldn't say them but acknowledging they were there. I was too young—though shinobi were afforded an age bracket separate from civilians, so that was hardly a believable falsehood. I preferred to remain alert, constantly aware that a moment of instability, of intoxication, could get me killed—truth, in fact; shinobi couldn't afford to let their guard down. Or if they could, they were much, much better shinobi than I was.

"My dad was an alcoholic," I said finally, a little bit haltingly.

"How did your father die?" He paused, then said, "That is not an appropriate question."

I smiled just slightly, unreasonably pleased to see a hint of the old, uncertain Gaara, recognizable even through his promotions. "We're close enough," I said, "that you can ask." Then I hesitated. "But I—I'm not sure you want to know."

"I want to know," he said, "to the extent that I will check your records upon your departure. My new position allows me that power."

I thought he was probably joking, although he was much more adept at the deadpan mask than even Hikitsuri had ever been. He added, then, "Unless you ask me not to."

Taking a deep breath and gazing into my cup of cooled tea, I said quietly, "You killed him." With a supreme effort of will, I raised my eyes to meet his look of horror and said, "I trust you enough to tell you myself."

"You trust me." He repeated it flatly, disbelievingly. "After I killed your father. When did this happen? I do not remember—"

"Almost ten years ago now." I shrugged. "Gaara, I—" It was a struggle to keep meeting his eyes, keep talking, even though—or perhaps because—I spoke the truth. "I've never been bitter about it. Or mad at you. I was six, I just kind of—took it as a lesson. Don't drink alcohol, it gets you killed." I offered a slight grin. "I was a weird kid, and my family was never that great." He gave me an odd look and I laughed. "Nothing on you and yours, of course."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I do not think that is adequate, but I'm sorry."

"It's adequate," I said. "And you know I don't lie to you."

He started to say something else and I shook my head. "Gaara." I swallowed. "Talking about it—makes it hurt. I appreciate your apology. It means something. But it doesn't hurt unless I think about him, so I'm not going to think about him."

"Is that—"

"—the same way I've been dealing with my house? Yeah." I laughed weakly again. "My turn. To ask an inappropriate question."

"Okay."

"Why do you think they made you Kazekage, Gaara? So quickly? After… everything?"

"Politics," he said, with the slightest hint of a smile. "And I believe… in part, they still see me as the weapon they can control." He looked vaguely smug. "But they're wrong."

"Of course they are." I leaned back, clutching my tea and letting go of the conversation, of the lump in my throat that consisted of congealed thoughts of my father. Moments later, I sat up abruptly, sloshing cold tea all over myself.

"Isane," I said. "I haven't seen her in months and months—"

"She visited," he said. "Every day."

"I—I don't remember." I stood up. "Gaara, I have to—"

"Go," he said. "I have paperwork to do."

-o-

I practically ran to Isane's apartment, having gotten her new address from Gaara before leaving. It took her several long minutes to answer, until I thought maybe she wasn't even home.

When she opened the door she looked—I don't know how to describe it. She looked perfectly normal, her clothes neat and adorable, her hair all in line. She looked unaffected—except for the lining around her eyes, the dark look of weariness. I felt a flash of guilt, then. Isane had lost the same two people I had, people she'd been close to in ways I couldn't claim, and she had gone on, completing missions and being a shinobi.

"Isane," I said. "You're stronger than I am." And then I stepped forward and hugged her, held on while she shook and still refused to cry, and wondered how I could fix everything I had missed.

-o-

"Don't you ever have missions?"

I sat across the desk from Gaara again, while he sifted through seemingly endless piles of paperwork, and laughed. "You think they'd put me on real missions after I checked out like that?" I quelled a wave of bitterness; it was my own fault. "If I get bored, they assigned me some gardens to weed by next week. I'm not that bored." I leaned forward and eyed his stack of paper. "Aren't _you_ bored?"

He offered a small smile. "Temari helps sometimes. But she is in Konoha."

I started to ask another question, probably doing nothing to facilitate the completion of paperwork, but his attention shifted. He rose quickly and ordered, "Stay here."

"No."

I gave him a look and he returned his gaze briefly to my face. "Tell me you will stay here."

"What's worse, a lie or a broken promise? I'm not going to stay here."

He tugged off the Kazekage's robes, leaving me to wonder idly how warm it must be to always be wearing those extra layers in the desert, and dropped them on the desk. Sand swirled up from the ground, reforming his customary gourd across his back.

"Takara," he said severely, "I do not want to see you out there." I shrugged and started to say no problem, when he finished, "But I will appreciate you at my back."


	113. A Helplessness

A/N: Here begins Shippuden. As always: I lay claim to none of the original dialogue; when possible, I followed the manga as closely as possible, so those words are not mine. And a disclaimer (it has been so very long): Naruto and all related characters, settings, paraphernalia, etc. do not belong to me, nor have I made any money off this work. However, Takara and all original characters not present in the series are mine, though I had help for several of the side characters' designs.

BORING STUFF OVER. Chapter time.

-o-

He ascended and I followed, already cloaking myself as we went. The process took more effort these days, more preparation. We stood on the roof and surveyed the skies; I saw nothing unusual, only a bird soaring not too far above our heads, but without warning, a trunk of sand lunged upward for the creature.

It twisted and I saw a person on its back, realized it wasn't close but huge. Gaara chased it down without moving a muscle, countering its evasions with writhing sand—and moment later, before I could do anything, he had leapt onto one of his waves of gold, rising to face his opponent without me.

I bit back a shout of aggravation, knowing it would blow my cover and wishing I didn't have to care. He could've brought me up there with him, but instead he'd left me to watch, probably because he wanted to _protect_ me. I repressed the surge of warmth and delight at the idea that Gaara wanted to protect me, telling my heart firmly that I was in the process of being irritated, not happy.

Now I had to watch as Gaara called the desert up to defend us, grains of sand trickling down on my head as the fight climbed higher and higher until I could hardly see. The Kazekage and his opponent exchanged flurry of sand and explosions and blood, and I couldn't help but imagine the exhilaration of wheeling through an aerial battle with Gaara on your side.

Of course, unless I suddenly sprouted wings, imagining it was all I had.

Moments later, Kankuro, Baki, and a handful of other shinobi emerged onto the roof, Baki shouting directions. I wasn't sure how they intended to "cover Lord Kazekage" when he was way up there and we were all down here, _none_ of us with wings, but I couldn't hold onto my blanket of shadows for very long once Baki lowered his voice to speak to Kankuro alone.

"We must consider the possibility of Gaara going feral," he began, glancing sideways, "and have a contingency plan in case Shukaku emerges."

I flung myself free of the shadows as Kankuro said, "Come on, no way," then remembered what had happened last time I shouted at Baki. Both he and Kankuro looked at me in shock; I stood breathing a minute, then snapped, "You _still_ don't trust him?"

"Gaara wouldn't hurt any villagers," Kankuro said pensively, and I nodded vigorously.

"He used to be your _student_," I said irritably. "And you never bothered to know him at all." Cheers rose up from the village around us, ordinary civilians placing their faith in someone they had once hated and feared. "You don't even trust all _them_?"

"My job is the security of the village, not sentiment," he said coolly. "And—"

A shadow fell over us, one not my own, and we all looked up. A massive white object plummeted toward us, arms spread like wings, not at all a promising sight.

"Not good. Run!" Baki shouted, clearly of the same mind, but it was too late—

Too late for us to act, but not for Gaara. It was as if the ground was floating up past our ears when the sand abruptly yanked into the air, tearing away from the streets of Suna to coalesce above our heads. It might as well have been night for all the sun that came through that massive blossom of gold.

The next thing—the only thing—I saw as the savior sand drifted away was Gaara falling. Kankuro shouted his brother's name, but my cry was of inarticulate anguish as he dropped, as the stranger's bird caught him in its tail where he hung like a corpse as his opponent whisked him away.

Kankuro and I took off in the same moment, Baki shouting after us. Kankuro at least tried to acknowledge him, carrying on some conversation about "track not attack" that I ignored in my desperation to follow Gaara. We sped across the village until we reached the tall narrow slit in the sentinel cliffs—and found it lined with corpses.

"Wh—What the…?" Kankuro gave voice to the reaction I couldn't make, caught in the spray of blood that decorated the sand. "No… This can't be…"

"It is," I said hoarsely, and his eyes hardened as he leapt away. I dropped into his shadow and followed, struggling to stay right on his heels as we chased Gaara's captors down.

"Stop!"

They turned to face us, swathed in black cloaks with red clouds, but my eyes were for Gaara, hovering just a few feet above their heads. I wanted to lunge forward and save him, but there was nothing out here to cast a shadow, besides us and them, and it was too much to hope they wouldn't notice blackness stretching across the ground. I had nothing—no katana, only a handful of shuriken I technically wasn't supposed to have, since they hadn't cleared me for weapon status yet—and all my slow-moving jutsu that had once been so quick.

"I'm taking Gaara back!" Kankuro shouted, and I wished somehow to help. I knew I would have to move—once he started fighting, I wouldn't be able to remain in his shadow; I couldn't keep up like that, especially with someone whose patterns of movement I had never worked on understanding. Abura, I had once been able to follow. Gaara, I could follow. Kankuro, I didn't know well enough.

"Kankuro," I hissed, below the short, squat opponent's orders for his fellow to go on, "I need something stationary that casts a shadow."

He gestured surreptitiously toward the cactus standing a distance away. I waited until Kankuro threw his puppets forth, summoning them in a grand gesture that proved quite an adequate distraction for me to sprint toward the only shadow I could find.

I watched the bird race away, carrying Gaara, and nearly screamed in frustration—but I didn't have the kind of speed to keep up with a creature of the air. Instead, I crouched and watched Kankuro fight—watched his puppets crushed, sending the occasional shuriken into battle from across the sand when I thought I could risk it, trying my best to deflect some of the blows intended to spear Kankuro down.

When I thought I was losing him, I turned and raced back to Suna, a speck of black in the sand, determining to lead Baki to Kankuro in time to save his life. I felt completely, utterly useless, hardly even a shinobi anymore—so I had to find someone who was.

-o-

I sat on the floor at Kankuro's bedside for a couple days, fighting not to fade away though I hardly noticed what was going on. Gaara had dragged me out of the silence before; if he was gone, what had even been the point? I at least looked up when Naruto arrived with Sakura and their sensei, but I couldn't work up the energy to even wonder where their third teammate had gone. Perhaps they had lost him as I had lost mine; they didn't say. I don't think they noticed me, which wasn't surprising, since I was doing such a good job of blending into the wall—and not even on purpose.

Temari came and sat beside me, and we watched as Sakura pulled the poison out of Kankuro, declared him out of immediate danger, and stood around chatting with the elders.

Naruto had the right attitude at least. He knew we had to go after Gaara _now_.

-o-

It took a little preparation and a lot of talking before they let us go. They almost stopped me—they stopped Temari—but in the end I snuck out. Insubordination. Maybe they'd call it betrayal. It meant I had to stay in the shadows when I followed Naruto and his companions, or else they'd send me back.

I used that as my excuse to stay out of their conversations—though as elder Chiyo explained biju to Sakura, I thought abruptly of what I had read a year ago in the scrolls I had forced Abura to burn. They had been forgotten in the face of the war, and I'd never had to explain their disappearance—but the information was still in my head, and I wished it wasn't. Knew these Akatsuki that they discussed would love to have it, to use it for—worse things.

I used it, too, my need to hide, as an excuse to stay out of their fight. I had to concentrate enough on convincing my chakra to keep me in the shadows while simultaneously avoiding being blown up by flashing jutsu. Call me cowardly—I was. But it was as if I had never graduated the Academy, they way my chakra hardly obeyed me, the limited supply of weapons I'd been able to smuggle out. I was helpless and hopeless and I didn't care about Itachu—or Yura, or whoever—only Gaara. Only Kakashi's statement, _We have to hurry to rescue Gaara_. I was saving myself, all my remaining power, for _that_, I told myself.

And then—

"When the biju is removed, the jinchuuriki… dies."

"NO!"


	114. A Veracity

A/N: I'm a little behind on reviews/PMs again, so sorry! I'll be caught up before I finish. I promise.

-o-

They all turned to look toward me; I froze, then winced regretfully. I was still invisible, but if I stayed that way, I was probably going to have a kunai through my face because they tried to find me, so I let the jutsu drop.

"Hey!" said Naruto. "I know you! Don't remember your name though," he added in a mutter. "What are you doing here? Have you been following us?"

"Takara," I said. "That's my name. Yes I have."

"Why are you here?" Kakashi asked, repeating the question of Naruto's that I had skipped. "I seem to recall them forbidding you to come."

I stared at him, wanting to lie, wanting desperately not to speak the truth out loud, and knowing I was protecting nobody but myself if I did. "I love Gaara," I said finally. "I have loved Gaara for a damned long time. And the desert gods themselves are not going to stop me from bringing him back."

"Always quick to cry, Sakura," said Naruto, and I glanced toward the medic-nin, startled. That wasn't because of me, was it? "Don't worry," the blond went on. "I'm gonna save Gaara! And Takara here is going to help me do it, right?"

"Yes," I said, standing up finally. "Yes, I am."

"Naruto, it's you I'm—" Sakura started, but he cut her off with a cheery, "We'd better hurry!" and strode away without looking back. I cast the other three a wary glance as I walked past them, following Naruto silently, just waiting for someone to tell me to go home.

But maybe we were far enough away from Suna. Or maybe I had impressed them enough with the truth—but they let me tag along for the hunt.

-o-

Naruto pushed on ahead, with a speed none of us could hope to match—but I tried, demanding a velocity from myself that I hadn't asked since chasing Abura to his death. I couldn't keep up, but I pulled ahead of the others; the distance and the wind rushing past kept their conversations from me, and I was okay with that. I didn't want to concentrate on the people being human behind me; I wanted to concentrate on the inhuman speed ahead of me, carrying us closer to Gaara.

I hadn't been fast enough to save Abura. I hadn't been good enough to save Eiri. I was slower and weaker now than I had been both those times, but gods of the sand curse me if I wasn't going to succeed this time around. I _would not_ let Gaara die.

We met up with Rock Lee and his squad at the entrance to the Akatsuki's hideout; Neji and I exchanged brief nods of recognition, acknowledging our recent short partnership. I stood back and let the rest of them deal with removing the seals, stepping forward only as the boulder crumbled and the path was clear.

They sat before us, two black-robed figures spattered with red, and one of them sat on Gaara. Stretched out, face cracked like a porcelain doll and not the real Gaara at all. I stood for a moment in quaking shock, terror—and Naruto's shout snapped me free. "_You! You're dead meat!_"

"Get off him," I said, but shaking too frantically to raise my voice above a whisper. I took half a step forward, trying to find my strength, while Naruto continued yelling. "Gaara! Why are you just lying there? _Get up!_" _He _could_ still be alive, there could still be time to save him, we can't tell from here if he's breathing—_

And then Kakashi cut Naruto off, just as I tried to lift my voice to add my pleas for Gaara to awake. "You know full well," Kakashi said, and I wondered if I dreamed this—for how else could everything sound so distorted, so strangely whispery when everyone spoke clearly.

"Indeed. I should think you'd know," the blond with the bird said smugly, "that he's already dead, _hmmm_?"

I think Naruto and I reacted at the same instant, and in one odd moment before discovering my face wet with tears I hadn't remembered crying, I wondered which one of us that said more about. I saw Gaara every day, claimed to love him—but I couldn't defend him better than this overexcited blond who'd really shown my redhead how to love. I would be a shadow in the corner of Gaara's eye, hoping not to be killed, if not for Naruto.

In a single fluid motion, Kakashi had moved in front of Naruto and grabbed my wrist, holding us both back. "Cool it," he said. "Charge in without thinking, and you'll get us all killed."

_Does it matter?_ I wanted to ask. I ripped my hand from his grip before he noticed I was shaking, but somehow I doubted he had missed it—not when I doubted I could hold so much as a teacup still in my quaking hands.

The two Akatsuki members had a quiet argument, during which I wondered why we didn't just _attack_, while they were distracted, but I knew without a doubt that Kakashi would be able to stop me easily every time I tried. I waited, tense, until Naruto yelled, "Enough of this!" and sprung a jutsu forth—then I moved. I leapt forward, pulling with me the shadow from the rubble behind me, until it stretched and I dissolve. A genjutsu spun forth from my seals, weak and wavering but determined—and I thought it caught, but the hunched-over Akatsuki flicked it off as easily as he did Naruto's shuriken.

I flicked out a Shadow Possession as the blond Akatsuki stood up, finally removing his filthy touch from Gaara's prone form. And too late—this time it did catch the hunched shinobi, but he stood still anyway and watched the giant white bird scoop up Gaara. I released the jutsu in a surge of rage that shattered all pretenses at control, and the blond leapt away, his bird dragging Gaara down with a distinct gulp—and an expression of unmistakable smugness, despite being an enormous clay bird.

Sparing the other Akatsuki not another thought, I pivoted and ran, once again on Naruto's heels. We chased the blond—I thought his partner had called him Deidara, though they'd been too far away for us to hear their arguments clearly—down the canyon, and I gritted my teeth and wished for my sword and fought to keep up while Kakashi and Naruto flung attacks at the retreating Akatsuki.

_Never again_, I thought furiously, eyes locked on the bird that carried Gaara. _Never again will I be so sands-cursed useless._ I had lost two teammates and regressed—even if I lost a third here, now, I would still advance. I would train until I bled.

But I would not lose a third here. I clung to the tiny possibility that Gaara remained alive, unconscious, inside that receding bird. If I could lie—so could they, when they said he was already did.

Since that thought was all that kept me moving—I don't know how I could've moved forward without him as I so firmly resolved. I didn't know how to advance without him to drag me awake.

We clung to the rock face, chakra pulsing in our fingers and feet, and listened to Deidara taunt us—taunt Naruto especially. Taunt Gaara almost worst of all.

"You filth." The words ripped from Naruto in a feral snarl, surprising me. Even in his haste to save his friend, I'd never expected such rage from the cheerful blond. "_You're all dead." _

And he leapt for the Akatsuki, chakra building such as I had never sensed. Kakashi and I pursued, speeding through the trees that laced the canyon until Kakashi caught up and told Naruto once again to _wait_.

"You know nothing," I said, lowly, fiercely. "What's your attachment to him? You don't _understand_."

His gaze shifted sideways slightly, taking in both Naruto and I. "Don't worry," he promised. "We'll get Gaara back!"


	115. A Dedication

A/N: Sorry I forgot to post this one this afternoon! There are only two more chapters AFTER this one, so be prepared. (:

Since this chapter is called "A Dedication," I want to use it to dedicate this—to you. Yes. You. With your eyes on this page. It wouldn't have happened without you.

So thank you.

-o-

"I'm a close-range fighter, too," I said somewhat gloomily as Kakashi began outlining his strategy mid-flight. "Actually, I'm a stealth fighter." Actually, I wasn't much of a fighter at all, but I chose not to admit that as I outlined my limited abilities so he could include me in his plan.

"Not yet?" Naruto demanded as he trailed Deidara through the canyon, and Kakashi urged him to be patient while I shared his sentiments. We had already lost too much time.

And then, finally—

"Let's go, Naruto, Takara!"

I skittered up the side of the cliff, trying to remember what it had been like to climb walls while hidden in the Tsuchikage's office so many months ago. I _could_ jutsu multitask, and I gave my chakra a sharp command to attach me to this sands-cursed wall while I ran invisibly higher, decreasing the distance between Deidara and I.

Kakashi and Naruto still conversed below, but I heard nothing, concentrating on my slipping fingers. This used to be basic—why was I never good at it? Hissing in frustrating, I stabilized the chakra and pushed a genjutsu upward.

It wasn't my usual style, no shadows but the ordinary ones—simpler than I was accustomed to, and that threw me for a moment, until I realized it made it easier. I just replicated the chase, made Naruto quiet, kept Deidara flying straight even while he thought he soared patterns of insane evasion. The genjutsu wasn't perfect—it slid, warping slightly as Kakashi attacked, but it meant Deidara stayed focused on the ocular jutsu so he never saw Naruto coming.

My genjutsu exploded with Naruto's Rasengan, but it had lasted as long as it needed to. I dropped and rushed, joining Naruto's shadow clones to catch the head of the bird that cradled Gaara.

We tore back the clay, those clones and I, and I doubled over, gasping out an agonized sob. Gaara lay there, huddled against the curve of the bird's throat, sleeping comfortably—not breathing.

I turned away, smudging tear-trails across my face, trying to remind myself this wasn't done yet. I couldn't pretend it was over, even though it felt like the world itself was ending without Gaara to hold it together.

"You have to fight without him," I whispered, too low for Naruto to hear. "Be good enough for the ones still alive."

And with resolve hardening my eyes, my control, I stretched my chakra into the trees, masking the Naruto that raced up behind Deidara with a fist at the ready.

That's when things… changed. I leapt to line up with Deidara's trajectory and flung a Shadow Possession at him as he landed. I missed, cursed—and the force of the jutsu _stretched_ it, until the shadows burst into a spray of dark needles that peppered the undergrowth.

"That's never happened before," I said aloud, astonished, as another handful of shadow clones pinned Deidara to the ground while the real Naruto pummeled him.

He dissolved into clay at the final blow, and I pivoted, searching for the real one. An idea struck me and I flicked through the seals for the Shadow Possession again, changing just one and forcing it past its limits until it scattered into the bushes. It wasn't refined, but if Deidara lurked in the undergrowth, I would chase him out.

Kakashi's shout distracted me, a call of, "Takara, hold him!" drawing me around. Naruto crouched on the remains of his destruction, doubled over and radiating red chakra that manifested as… was that a fox?

Without another moment's hesitation, though feeling a slight drain on my chakra. I directed a Shadow Possession at Naruto and actually caught him. Determinedly, I reined him in, though the bubbling red chakra boiled at the bond with a searing heat. I flinched, remembering all too well what it was like to have my chakra pathways scorched away. My hold wavered as the overpowering chakra drained me toward zero faster than I had ever experienced, but I paralyzed him just long enough for Kakashi to slap a seal on his forehead.

Naruto collapsed; with the relief of the burning pressure on my chakra, I followed suit, no longer possessing enough chakra to pursue Deidara. Moments later, Sakura and Chiyo arrived, battered and bloody but not beaten.

"Sakura," said Naruto, looking as if he could hardly keep his eyes open. "You guys did it…"

"Yes," acknowledged Chiyo. "But… where's Gaara?"

I scrambled to my feet, spinning and running to him at her words. I caught her response, a simple muttered, "Good" at the sight of him, and suppressed a surge of weary rage that she could call Gaara without life… _good_.

Landing beside him and Naruto's remaining shadow clones on the tree branch, I slid my hand into his and clapsed the lifeless fingers as if hoping they would still respond. Moments later, Lee's squad had driven Deidara out of hiding and backed him into a corner.

"Everyone, get out of here!" Neji shouted as the Akatsuki-nin began to bulge strangely with concentrated chakra. I slipped one of Gaara's arms over my shoulder while a clone did the same on the other side; we took a frantic leap, trying to escape the range of the explosion to Neji's accompanying cry of, "We're not going to make it!"

We skidded to a halt moments later as the Deidara bomb spiraled in on itself and vanished.

"What on earth," demanded Sakura when Kakashi collapsed, "did you do?"

"I teleported him," he said, exhaustion written across his face, "and the explosion to another space." He took a moment to breathe, then said, "Never mind that… is everyone okay?"

_Gaara's not,_ I wanted to say as we brought him to the ground, while Naruto looked toward his healer and she silently looked away.

-o-

We moved to the open plain, removing the threat of ambush, where the windswept across whispering grass and hissed all our names. Sakura pressed her hands to Gaara's chest, trying to call him back, but his hands were cold and the tears already fogged my gaze. He'd been gone for hours now, and I didn't need Sakura's desponded shake of the head to tell me I'd failed to save another friend.

She stood up and backed away, though I remained kneeling in the grass beside him. Naruto stood over us, and when I glanced up, he cried despite gritted teeth and spoke despite his tears.

"Why Gaara?" he asked hoarsely. "Why always Gaara?"

Reflexively, I clenched my fist, squeezing Gaara's cold, stiff fingers. He had always been warm to me—not Abura's fiery heat, but the sun in the desert, at least. It wasn't right that he should be cold. All the sand, too, had drifted away, with no chakra to keep it shielding him; his skin was smooth, without the customary texture of grit that made him—_real_.

I felt like I was choking on all the grief I had ever swallowed, didn't know how Naruto could find the courage to speak through his pain.

"If he dies like this…!" He struggled to go on. "He's Kazekage…. He's just become Kazekage…."

"Calm down, Uzumaki Naruto," said Chiyo softly, and through my tears, I managed an incredulous snort that was lost in Naruto's rage. "_Shut up!_" he shouted, pivoted, saltwater spraying with the momentum. "If you Sand ninja hadn't put that monster in Gaara, none of this would have happened! Did you ever even consider what Gaara thought? Did you ever even ask?" He paused for half a breath and continued his tirade, cutting into my heart with every word.

"You call him a jinchuuriki host? Who are you to decide what fate for someone else?"

He slipped into helpless sobs, and hesitantly, I reached up with my free hand to clasp his. He responded reflexively, clutching my hand as if I would drag him back from drowning, then glancing at me in surprise like he hadn't even noticed the motion.

"I couldn't save Sasuke," he said, and I felt a thrill of sick sympathy; I suffered the same. "I can't save Gaara. For three years, I trained like crazy. But nothing has changed."

I opened my mouth to tell him—what I'd seen, I suppose. I didn't know exactly what, but I felt compelled to explain things to him—to just talk to him. Naruto's strange power. But before any words had escaped, Chiyo brushed past and knelt beside me, hands hovering over Gaara's prone form. They glowed fiercely, and Sakura shouted something—Naruto demanded an explanation—and all I heard was Sakura's ardent final sentence:

"She's going to bring Gaara back."

I twisted around, releasing Naruto's hand and nearly disrupting her jutsu with my abrupt motion, while Naruto questioned the possibility and Sakura, looking oddly sad, confirmed that Chiyo—and only Chiyo—could do this.

Moments later, the jutsu stuttered, chakra glow flickering. "No…" she muttered. "Not enough chakra."

And past her slightly gasping breaths, Naruto said, "Please… use my chakra."

We both glanced to him, where he crouched across Gaara from me. "Is that possible…? Granny?"

She lowered her eyes, hesitated, said, "Place your hands on mine."

He obeyed, and after a pause, I placed my hands on top despite the drain that pervaded my veins, feeling the warmth of chakra—life—suffusing our skin. While Chiyo talked, I breathed in, trying not to help, trying to remind myself that nobody could bring back the dead, so I wouldn't be disappointed when it failed.

But—I hoped. And if it failed, it would be one more wish ripped out of me and trampled in the dirt.

"Naruto," the elder finished softly, breath fading, "I have a favor to ask. You're the only person who knows Gaara's pain." I inhaled sharply; I'd never told Naruto what I owed him for the empathy he'd showed Gaara—an empathy I couldn't offer.

Maybe I would before this was over.

"Gaara also knows _your_ pain," she said slowly, and finished, with her eyes flicking to me just long enough that I knew she meant both of us, "Please look after Gaara."

Then she descended into silence, breathing labored as she continued to pour strength into the broken redhead between us. When my vision started to waver, I knew my chakra was dangerously close to being overdrawn, and still I clung, desperate to do _something_ to save Gaara.

They arrived a few at a time—Kankuro and Temari, a handful of other Suna-nin—and then all at once, racing across the plain to watch their Kazekage restored to life.


	116. A Resurrection

A/N: ATTENTION. This is the SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER. Tomorrow will be _The Obsession'_s fourth birthday, the fourth anniversary of all this, and also the end. See you then.

Also, you might notice that all the fanart links and everything on my profile page just died. I… do not understand why that happened, but it makes me want to cry a little. If I have some (a lot) of time, I'll maybe go back and find all the art again/fix whatever broke, but… sob.

-o-

He stirred beneath our touch; Chiyo slumped back, and Sakura caught her. I clutched at Gaara's hand, cool and dry once again, and thought fiercely that I would never let go again. "Gaara," I said softly, as Naruto grabbed his shoulder and called him, too, as we spoke him back from death.

Slowly, his eyes, uncomfortably dark voids of insomnia, opened to cool seafoam as they were meant to be. They widened, then, astonished—and he looked so innocent, so vulnerable, a Gaara I had never seen, and I would have leaned down and kissed him if we hadn't been surrounded by people.

"Naruto," he said slowly, and then his bewildered gaze shifted to me. "Takara." He moved again, trying to sit up, and if possible, his eyes grew yet wider. "…What's this…?"

"We all came running," said Naruto, brimming with cheer, "to your rescue." And I realized abruptly that I was crying, not chokingly as I had when he had—died—but overwhelmingly, as if trying to drown myself in shocked happiness, tears washing grit and despair away in a waterfall of salty hope.

"Gaara," I said, in hardly more than a whisper, "I love you."

He just looked at me, that uncertain gaze lacking a response, and I managed a grin through my tears, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his shoulders. "You had us worried," Naruto said behind me, and I broke away as Gaara's siblings cut in.

"You sure did," agreed Kankuro, standing over us and looking rather smug. "You caused us a ton of grief, little brother."

"Don't act so superior," said Temari loftily. "Gaara is Kazekage. Shut _all_ your mouths! You brats!" I hastily backed up as she knelt down to ask Gaara how he was feeling, but she cast me a look and said graciously, "Takara-chan, you can stay."

I stilled, watching Gaara struggle to stand; Temari's attention shifted abruptly back to him. "You shouldn't move too suddenly. Your body hasn't completely recovered from the rigor mortis yet." And even more abruptly, she was on her feet, arms spread wide, glaring down a pair of overenthusiastic kunoichi who knocked Naruto out of their way in their haste to protect Gaara. I ducked reflexively at the threat of attack, before I realized they were only a menace to people on the _other_ side of Temari.

"Takara," Gaara started, once Temari had chased off the kunoichi and walked over to talk with Naruto and Kankuro. "You—" He stopped trying to rise for a moment, settling for sitting up, and paused, breathing hard. One hand lifted uncertainly, brushing the tears that coated my face. "These _are_ tears of joy… right?"

I snickered, the sound catching slightly on a sob, and said, "Yes."

And then he curled his hand around the back of my head and pulled me just enough closer that he could graze his lips against mine.

He didn't deepen the kiss, pulling back uncertainly, but I still hardly heard the variety of sounds that danced around us as my head spun. "Do you regret it?" he asked, after a moment.

"No," I said, grinning, "absolutely not." A beat, and then—"Do you?"

"No."

And that's when we looked up and both realized that Chiyo was dead—that in the middle of the unbelievable delight of Gaara's return, our joy had to slip away so we could grieve for the elder who had made it possible. Gaara made one last attempt to stand, Naruto returning to help me help him, and the three of us stood, regarding Chiyo's lifeless form while Sakura looked up at us.

"…Everyone," said Gaara at last, "pray for Granny Chiyo."

-o-

Cheers lined the streets as we brought the Kazekage home, and that euphoria kept me safe for a little while. But it didn't last long in the Council, and when it had faded, I was in trouble.

First it was for leaving when they'd ordered me to stay. Luckily for me, the Kazekage was on my side, and I wasn't punished for subordination. But second was the sick hermit in the woods—they'd discovered some notes in their files that mentioned what he had been working on, and they wanted their scrolls now.

I explained they had been destroyed. I didn't say how. I could have blamed Abura—they couldn't punish him now. But it seemed too much like betrayal. They asked—I said they'd been burned. Nobody knew what they said.

I told that lie easily, knowing it was protecting too many people to count. "Come on," I said, "I'm already not qualified for missions outside of the village. How much more are you going to punish me?" Gaara had already tried to put the matter to rest, but apparently because the mission had occurred before he was Kazekage, he couldn't just order it dismissed.

They let me go with only another week to my probation, but with the looming threat of future discipline—of this coming back to bite me. I left knowing that they would be hunting for the information now—now that they knew it existed, was possible. Perhaps only the hermit had the skills and knowledge to create the secret, but they would find out. They would question everyone—question Isane. I was the only one who'd read them, and they would know, and they would rip the information out of me.

And if it went anything like the last time, I wouldn't even remember giving the secrets up.

-o-

Training with Gaara became a lot more evenly-matched, after he'd recovered sufficiently from the ordeal. He struggled to control the sand now, without the Shukaku's endless well of chakra and drive for self-preservation that moved the desert of its own free will. We both started from the ground up, it seemed—and though he outstripped me quickly, I strove to keep up, keeping the promises I had made to myself.

"How's it feel to sleep again?" I asked him one morning, sitting on his windowsill and waiting for him to come out with me. It'd nearly gotten me killed the first time I tried to go directly to his room, the Kazekage's guards taking their job very seriously, until he'd ordered them to let me in. I tried to respect this by compromising, and never sneaking into his room in the middle of the night or any other time that might constitute as threatening or surprising. I still—somehow, despite everything—held onto that tiny conviction in my heart that I one day wanted to die by Gaara's hand. Not his guards.

"I can't," he said, in answer to my question, settled with a cup of tea.

I blinked in surprise, dropping to the floor and leaning against the wall beside the window. "But—the Shukaku—"

"I have lived too many years of insomnia," he said. "I am never safe enough to sleep." He managed a slight smile and said, "Perhaps someday. For now, I accomplish a good deal of paperwork at night."

That sounded like an impossible life to me, never shutting down—never dreaming. But then, dreams were hardly a benefit to sleeping, not when all you saw when you closed your eyes were your friends sliding screaming into death.

"Maybe you're lucky," I said. "But aren't you tired?"

"Yes," he said. "But you sleep, and you are tired, too."

"I'd be lying if I disagreed," I said. "And you know me."

-o-

"Gaara," I said quietly, on the night I turned sixteen, "would you come to my house with me?"

He looked up from his desk, the slightest crease in his brow telling me that he was frustrated with all this paperwork—frustrated to not be doing what he had become Kazekage to do. He told me sometimes, about the threat of the Akatsuki, about the things the Council talked about doing and the things they never did. I sat tentatively on the edge of the chair, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap, and looked down when he met my eyes.

"Yes," he said, setting down his pen. "The Council meets"—the briefest pause for the tiniest of sighs—"and perhaps we shall accomplish something tonight. However—"

"After," I said, "is okay."

"Then yes." When I raised my gaze, he was regarding me steadily, as he often did. "What do you expect to find there?"

"Nothing," I said. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	117. Chapter 111: A Finale

A/N: I chose this ending a couple years ago, so—complain as you like, but this is always how it was going to end. No, there will never be a sequel, a prequel, a spinoff, or any sort of continuation. This is the end.

It's been an amazing four years, guys, I can't believe you stuck with it. Even the people who didn't like it, I'm grateful for; this has pushed me so far as a writer, and I know I have to strive for yet greater heights. To those of you waiting for _Sand Child_—I will return to it. Not, you know, next week—I'm going to spend a little bit of time working on my own novel for a while—but gradually, it will come back. Please wait as faithfully as you have waited for _The Obsession_.

And in the meantime—

Enjoy the final chapter.

Much love,

Kit

-o-

My mother's ghost did not immediately assault me upon the opening of the door, and I counted that as a Good Sign. Gaara was not very cuddly, but he held my hand as I took a deep breath and stepped inside for the first time since my mother's death—for the first time in almost two and a half years.

Dust coated everything like fog; our passing kicked it up until I could hardly see, nor breathe for coughing. Gaara courteously ordered down what he could, but not all the grime was sand—some of it was just… being forgotten. As if disuse yielded its own grimy residue.

Everything was as I left it, and as we walked, I concentrated intently on—other things. A decision I debated. I clenched my hand around Gaara's, wishing I could make things easier for him—knowing there was one concern I could keep out of his way.

"There's going to be a war, isn't there?" I asked softly. "I mean, that thing with Kansei, that wasn't a war, really—there's going to be a real one."

"I do not know what the Akatsuki are planning," he said, "but they are bold. And they desire the biju for something that cannot be good."

I purposely walked past my mother's old room, shuddering at the thought of that dusty old mirror and the ghosts it would reflect. "The information that burned," I said, "the Akatsuki would love that, wouldn't they?"

"Any village would, hoping to become the greatest military strength," he said darkly. "Unless its Kage knew the ache of being jinchuuriki."

"So the Council _doesn't_ want it?"

"The Council does," he said. "I do not."

I nodded, tentatively pressing open the door to my room. It swung creakily back, revealing a foreign place. Nagi-sensei's couch was more home to me than this—and I did not think I would have the chance to move back in.

"The Council," I said. "They know I read the scrolls, don't they?"

He surveyed me silently, and I turned away from the sight of my dark, dusty bedroom, meeting his gaze. "I believe they do," he confirmed finally. "And I do not know if I can protect you."

"They still want to control you, huh? Still would go behind your back?"

"For now, yes."

I looked down at my hands, slender pale scars arcing out of my sleeves. "I wouldn't give it up willingly," I said. "I would make them fight me for it."

"I know."

Once again, I raised my gaze to his. "But they would win, Gaara. And I don't want that many people to die."

-o-

_She leaned back, furling the scroll, fastening it, twisting around in her chair. "I'm not sure why you think this is necessary," she said, holding it out. A handful of gold looped into the air, as if intending to accept it, and then a pale hand reached out for it instead._

"_Because I don't know," he said. "And because I want to." _

_She rose, taking his hand, and they ascended the sentinel cliffs of Sunagakure to watch the sun drown itself in the distant golden sand. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, and she refused to look at him._

"_We've discussed it. We've talked about it for weeks."_

"_There are methods—"_

"_There is no way to rip it from my head so that no one will be able to find it," she interrupted. "We could bury it, we could smother it until I forgot I knew it, but their methods would be stronger, and they would dig it up." She suppressed a slight shudder. "And what would be left of my brain—it would be worse than death. I'd never leave the White Ward this time." _

"_You will never be ANBU."_

_She snorted, reining in a smile. "I was never going to be ANBU. Someone who failed the graduation exam six times—or whatever my ridiculous record was—just isn't ANBU material."_

"_Naruto did not pass at first, and he aims for Hokage."_

_With a laugh, she said, "I'm not Naruto material either." _

"_I do not wish—"_

"_I don't either," she said suddenly. "I don't want this. But wherever I ran, they would find me. However I hid, they would find me. I'm surprised they haven't dragged me in already, but maybe they're more afraid of you than you think. Maybe they were trying to find another away to circumvent your authority. But they'll come for me soon." A pause, a deep breath. "They think this will win them the war, if they know it, but it will only make it worse." _

_She smiled wryly. "And it's not in there, either," she added, nodding at the scroll that he still held in his other hand. "They would want to tear it apart looking for the code, but I didn't even record what the purpose of the secret is. I want it to die." _

_He raised the scroll slightly, looking down at it. "But is it the truth?"_

"_Would I lie to you?" She offered him a grin, and added, "Yes. To the best of my ability." _

_Then she turned away from the sunset, sliding her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Hesitantly, still never certain about the contact, he raised his hand to curl it across her back. "I never wanted to be the shinobi hero who dies in battle," she said, voice muffled. "You'll see." _

"_I—love you."_

"_I think," she said, "it gets easier to say." _

"_But I will have no one to practice on." _

"_Find someone," she advised. "But not for a while, or I might get jealous. Come on, Gaara." She raised her eyes, meeting his once more through her fringe of bangs. "No shinobi lasts forever. Look at Eiri. Look at Abura. I'm lucky I lasted this long." _

"_Look at your sensei. You might last longer."_

"_I won't, though." She ducked her head again, pressing herself against him as if she would meld into all the little shadows that lined his body. "I love you. I always have. I love you, too. Please stop drawing it out." _

"_I love you," he said again._

"_See, wasn't that easier this time?"_

"_Yes," he agreed, and the sand coiled up her limbs, tickling over her scarred flesh and racing down her skin. She shivered against the gritty embrace, caught one last glimpse of crimson and gold—blood and sand, Gaara and the desert—and the brief, sharp agony brought darkness over her eyes. _


End file.
